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