J. Cole
Safety
Alright, safety, if you're from Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)
It’s that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safety)
I know the whole world blowin' up your phone
I wanna know, nigga, when you’re comin' home (Yeah, alright, safety)
Cain Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up
Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safety)
I know the whole world blowin' up your phone
I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home
Yeah
Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?
I got a new number, dеlete that old one
By now, I'm surе you must’ve heard
’Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some
It's nothin’, know I did longer bids, this was a quick one
I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim
Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income’s low
That ain't my style, it'll never be
To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity
And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough
Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek
You know how he be movin' like he in a rush
Told him, "Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills"
We sat in my livin' room, where then we lit a Dutch
I ain't even know that he smoked like that
Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that
Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that
But, Bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had
Lot of these hoes fallin' off and it's real sad
How time can rob us of our best days
As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days
But anyways, what's up? I thought about you
Holler at me, I would love to catch up, I know you busy
But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs
Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety
Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up
Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from
I know the whole world blowin' up your phone
I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home
Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from
Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while
I know the whole world blowin' up your phone
I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home (Uh)
Ayy, Bo, what's goin' on?
I feel no way when you don't respond, dog
I know your heart and I know our bond
I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind
But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine
I heard that big Mal died, and, no, I couldn't tell you the cause
I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things
Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire
When moms cry, it's a shame
As of late, I've seen
An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president
These processions are for the negligent
So I don't care to hang out
These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang-out
Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now
Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now
When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down
It's wild how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile
Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch
Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich
Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems
Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom
Like what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?
Was 'bout to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you
And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin', for real
Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety
Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up (Woo)
Hillsborough, Central Jive, reportin' live from
I know the whole world blowin' up your phone
I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home
Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up
Calm down, underdogs, now we worldwide
I know the whole world blowin' up your phone
I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home
Yo, hit me back when you get the chance
So many of our peers passed away through the years
My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced
Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced
For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing
They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine
It seemed just like a mystery
Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome
We been known what team he acknowledged
Since we was kids, he lived in a closet
But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wildin' at A&T
Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types
Tight pants, switchin' they hips, paintin' they nails
So niggas from the 'Ville, had to distance ourselves
He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me
That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free
But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg
At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag
I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad
It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had
We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa—
Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong
Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize 'cause we did him wrong
Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?
Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too
Last summer, lot of brothers had got murdered out the blue
Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out
Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout
Here go the obituary, and just in case
There's a program attached that gives you the time and place
It's that funeral home off the Murch', the one adjace'
To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape
I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes
But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face
If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday
Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo, safety
Safety
Yeah, alright, safety
Don't wanna go back, that time's up, too stressed to reply
From Paroles Mania