Before the first song that you heard me on
There were people already trying to get me gone
Telling me to quit rapping / just play the keys / that
“My band had a singer” “They didn't need me”
But my band had my back
So we did the tracks / put out the album
And the talk went flat
It was funny at first / but then the humor faded
When some magazines printed that our label made us
We were too good to be true
Some were saying ghostwriters were writing all that we do
So we had to disprove it / we spelled it out
To the detail / how we do it / when we're making this music
After that I made it a rule:
I only do email responses to print interviews
Because these people love to put a twist to your words
To infer that you said something fucking absurd
Oh / did I lose you at “infer?”
Not used to hearing a verse that uses over first-grade vocabulary words?
People used to infer that we were manufactured
Now I’ve got the interviews on file
Which people said what / which number to dial
So now every enemy screaming insanity
All they're ever gonna be's another big fan of me