Fallin'

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Common

Lonnie Rashid Lynn, Jr. (born March 13, 1972), better known by his stage name Common (formerly Common Sense), is an American rapper and actor. more »

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Confront the day, I want a way to make sense of it
Yeah, it's a maze-ment
The turn of the world and how they see you
Ye already said they see us as black Beatles
Black people, open Hebrews
Let it speak to the saviour inside
You'll see why the world needs you, cathedral
Black bodies fallen in the hands and the clutches of
Descendants of the Dutchman, Anglo motherfuckers
That don't love us, wranglers, it's in their genes to cuff us
We the tribe of Levi, cut them jeans knee-high
I think that it would be wise to read the book of Elijah Mohammad
And see why we're prominent
Life's precious of lessons upon it
Our mother's grandmothers should be called iconic
Life's precious of blessings upon it

I don't know what we should call it
Some say it's love, some got it less
They say that we're free but we're falling
So what should we call it?
Blood on the leaves, it ain't autumn
The weight is so heavy, it hurts underneath
Now it seem that we got it the hardest
And we keep on falling

They say racism and it don't stop
They talk sexism yeah, it don't stop
Americanism yeah, it don't stop
You gotta get that wisdom and get your Glock
Before they hit your block with the National Guard
Yeah, you're protected by a compassionate guard
We hunting for jobs, being hunted by squads
It's a small world, we want it at large
America's most neglected and arrested
That's why your vaccine, I gotta second guess it
We don't know what you're shooting Black kings and Black queens
Plus, your health record ain't really that clean
We don't forget like Nat King, what happened in Tuskegee
We're getting over high blood pressure and diabetes
Like trees, we fall in the wilderness of America
Is it you don't hear us or don't care for us?

I don't know what we should call it
Some say it's love, some got it less
They say that we're free but we're falling
So what should we call it?
Blood on the leaves, it ain't autumn
The weight is so heavy, it hurts underneath
Now it seem that we got it the hardest
And we keep on falling

Once upon a time there was a Black man
They loved him when he shot ball
They loved him when he ran
They loved him when he rapped
They loved him when he danced
But really didn't love him when he was out with his fam
Couldn't love him in the hood or selling CD's
And couldn't love her when she was in her house sleep
I'm wondering if this love if it's really love at all
'Cause in that type of love we fall

I don't know what we should call it
Some say it's love, some got it less
They say that we're free but we're falling
So what should we call it?
Blood on the leaves, it ain't autumn
The weight is so heavy, it hurts underneath
Now it seem that we got it the hardest
And we keep on falling

Ooh, we keep falling
Ooh, we keep falling
Ooh, we keep falling
Ooh, we keep falling

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