[{"id":38729538,"name":"SAFETY","trackName":"SAFETY","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"J. Cole","duration":318.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\nAlright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\nIt's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\nKane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\nBonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\nYo, Jermaine, what's the word?\nI got a new number, delete that old one\nBy now, I'm sure you must've heard\n'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\nIt's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\nI never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\nBeggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\nThat ain't my style, it'll never be\nTo me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\nAnd plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\nLast night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\nYou know how he be movin' like he in a rush\nTold him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\nWe sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\nI ain't even know that he smoke like that\nDrank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\nYo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\nBut bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\nLotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\nHow time can rob us of our best days\nAs we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\nBut anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\nI would love to catch up, I know you busy\nBut you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\nStay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\nSafety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\nAyy, bo, what's goin' on?\nI feel no way when you don't respond, dog\nI know your heart, and I know our bond\nI know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\nBut still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\nI heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\nI know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\nCan't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\nWhen moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\nAn uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\nThese processions are for the negligent\nSo I don't care to hang out\nThese younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\nOh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\nHere's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\nWhen she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\nIt's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\nDog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\nFew things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\nAlthough I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\nMost of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\nLike, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\nWas about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\nAnd what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\nLet me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\nunderdogs, now we worldwide)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\nYo, hit me back when you get the chance\nSo many of our peers passed away through the years\nMy appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\nYo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\nFor doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\nThey say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\nIt seemed just like a mystery\nSome say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\nWe been known what team he acknowledged\nSince we was kids, he lived in a closet\nBut that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\nRunnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\nTight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\nSo niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\nHe felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\nThat's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\nBut years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nAt 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\nI shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\nIt's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\nWe turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nNah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\nNow that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\nMan, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\nRest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\nLast summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\nShit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\nBearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\nHere go the obituary, and just in case\nThere's a program attached that gives you the time and place\nIt's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\nTo that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\nI know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\nBut I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\nIf you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\nFuneral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n(Safety, safety, safety)\nSafety (Safety, safety)\nHuh, alright, safety\nDon't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.64]Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n[00:09.68]Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n[00:13.47]It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n[00:15.79]I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:18.02]I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n[00:20.63]Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n[00:23.59]Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n[00:26.23]I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:28.42]I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n[00:31.26]Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n[00:32.87]I got a new number, delete that old one\n[00:34.83]By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n[00:36.46]'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n[00:38.86]It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n[00:41.54]I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n[00:43.75]Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n[00:46.82]That ain't my style, it'll never be\n[00:48.62]To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n[00:51.18]And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n[00:54.55]Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n[00:57.46]You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n[00:59.65]Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n[01:02.42]We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n[01:04.72]I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n[01:06.89]Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n[01:09.36]Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n[01:12.05]But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n[01:14.97]Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n[01:17.60]How time can rob us of our best days\n[01:19.53]As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n[01:23.57]But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n[01:26.52]I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n[01:28.36]But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n[01:30.77]Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n[01:33.65]Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n[01:37.68]I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[01:40.68]I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n[01:43.48]Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n[01:48.12]I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[01:50.92]I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n[01:53.96]Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n[01:55.44]I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n[01:57.28]I know your heart, and I know our bond\n[01:59.04]I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n[02:01.65]But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n[02:04.36]I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n[02:07.24]I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n[02:10.37]Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n[02:12.00]When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n[02:15.47]An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n[02:18.35]These processions are for the negligent\n[02:20.36]So I don't care to hang out\n[02:21.88]These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n[02:24.41]Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n[02:27.03]Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n[02:29.55]When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n[02:32.20]It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n[02:34.95]Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n[02:37.12]Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n[02:39.72]Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n[02:42.12]Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n[02:45.08]Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n[02:47.48]Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n[02:50.07]And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n[02:53.44]Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n[02:56.03]Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n[03:00.19]I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[03:02.88]I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n[03:05.00]Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n[03:10.43]I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[03:13.42]I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n[03:15.82]Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n[03:18.12]So many of our peers passed away through the years\n[03:20.44]My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n[03:23.24]Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n[03:26.64]For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n[03:29.20]They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n[03:32.71]It seemed just like a mystery\n[03:34.12]Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n[03:37.17]We been known what team he acknowledged\n[03:39.17]Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n[03:41.05]But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n[03:44.41]Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n[03:47.16]Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n[03:49.61]So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n[03:51.97]He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n[03:54.60]That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n[03:57.36]But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[03:59.88]At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n[04:02.40]I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n[04:04.96]It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n[04:07.56]We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[04:09.98]Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n[04:12.39]Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n[04:15.55]Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n[04:18.40]Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n[04:21.03]Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n[04:23.64]Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n[04:26.03]Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n[04:28.59]Here go the obituary, and just in case\n[04:30.83]There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n[04:33.51]It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n[04:36.04]To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n[04:38.67]I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n[04:41.28]But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n[04:43.87]If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n[04:46.66]Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n[04:49.63](Safety, safety, safety)\n[04:54.15]Safety (Safety, safety)\n[04:58.20]Huh, alright, safety\n[05:00.41]Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n[05:06.06]","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: SAFETY\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: J. Cole\n  duration_ms: 318040\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n  start_ms: 6640\n  end_ms: 9680\n- text: Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  start_ms: 9680\n  end_ms: 13470\n- text: It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  start_ms: 13470\n  end_ms: 15790\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 15790\n  end_ms: 18020\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 18020\n  end_ms: 20630\n- text: Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  start_ms: 20630\n  end_ms: 23590\n- text: Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 23590\n  end_ms: 26230\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 26230\n  end_ms: 28420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n  start_ms: 28420\n  end_ms: 31260\n- text: Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  start_ms: 31260\n  end_ms: 32870\n- text: I got a new number, delete that old one\n  start_ms: 32870\n  end_ms: 34830\n- text: By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  start_ms: 34830\n  end_ms: 36460\n- text: '''Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some'\n  start_ms: 36460\n  end_ms: 38860\n- text: It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  start_ms: 38860\n  end_ms: 41540\n- text: I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  start_ms: 41540\n  end_ms: 43750\n- text: Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  start_ms: 43750\n  end_ms: 46820\n- text: That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  start_ms: 46820\n  end_ms: 48620\n- text: To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  start_ms: 48620\n  end_ms: 51180\n- text: And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  start_ms: 51180\n  end_ms: 54550\n- text: Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  start_ms: 54550\n  end_ms: 57460\n- text: You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  start_ms: 57460\n  end_ms: 59650\n- text: Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  start_ms: 59650\n  end_ms: 62420\n- text: We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  start_ms: 62420\n  end_ms: 64720\n- text: I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  start_ms: 64720\n  end_ms: 66890\n- text: Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  start_ms: 66890\n  end_ms: 69360\n- text: Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  start_ms: 69360\n  end_ms: 72050\n- text: But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  start_ms: 72050\n  end_ms: 74970\n- text: Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  start_ms: 74970\n  end_ms: 77600\n- text: How time can rob us of our best days\n  start_ms: 77600\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 83570\n- text: But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  start_ms: 83570\n  end_ms: 86520\n- text: I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  start_ms: 86520\n  end_ms: 88360\n- text: But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  start_ms: 88360\n  end_ms: 90770\n- text: Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 90770\n  end_ms: 93650\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 93650\n  end_ms: 97680\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 97680\n  end_ms: 100680\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  start_ms: 100680\n  end_ms: 103480\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  start_ms: 103480\n  end_ms: 108120\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 108120\n  end_ms: 110920\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 110920\n  end_ms: 113960\n- text: Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  start_ms: 113960\n  end_ms: 115440\n- text: I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  start_ms: 115440\n  end_ms: 117280\n- text: I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  start_ms: 117280\n  end_ms: 119040\n- text: I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  start_ms: 119040\n  end_ms: 121650\n- text: But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  start_ms: 121650\n  end_ms: 124360\n- text: I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  start_ms: 124360\n  end_ms: 127240\n- text: I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  start_ms: 127240\n  end_ms: 130370\n- text: Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  start_ms: 130370\n  end_ms: 132000\n- text: When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  start_ms: 132000\n  end_ms: 135470\n- text: An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  start_ms: 135470\n  end_ms: 138350\n- text: These processions are for the negligent\n  start_ms: 138350\n  end_ms: 140360\n- text: So I don't care to hang out\n  start_ms: 140360\n  end_ms: 141880\n- text: These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  start_ms: 141880\n  end_ms: 144410\n- text: Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  start_ms: 144410\n  end_ms: 147030\n- text: Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  start_ms: 147030\n  end_ms: 149550\n- text: When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  start_ms: 149550\n  end_ms: 152200\n- text: It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  start_ms: 152200\n  end_ms: 154950\n- text: Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  start_ms: 154950\n  end_ms: 157120\n- text: Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  start_ms: 157120\n  end_ms: 159720\n- text: Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  start_ms: 159720\n  end_ms: 162120\n- text: Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  start_ms: 162120\n  end_ms: 165080\n- text: Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  start_ms: 165080\n  end_ms: 167480\n- text: Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  start_ms: 167480\n  end_ms: 170070\n- text: And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  start_ms: 170070\n  end_ms: 173440\n- text: Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 173440\n  end_ms: 176030\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 176030\n  end_ms: 180190\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 180190\n  end_ms: 182880\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 182880\n  end_ms: 185000\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  start_ms: 185000\n  end_ms: 190430\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 190430\n  end_ms: 193420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 193420\n  end_ms: 195820\n- text: Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  start_ms: 195820\n  end_ms: 198120\n- text: So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  start_ms: 198120\n  end_ms: 200440\n- text: My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  start_ms: 200440\n  end_ms: 203240\n- text: Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  start_ms: 203240\n  end_ms: 206640\n- text: For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  start_ms: 206640\n  end_ms: 209200\n- text: They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  start_ms: 209200\n  end_ms: 212710\n- text: It seemed just like a mystery\n  start_ms: 212710\n  end_ms: 214120\n- text: Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  start_ms: 214120\n  end_ms: 217170\n- text: We been known what team he acknowledged\n  start_ms: 217170\n  end_ms: 219170\n- text: Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  start_ms: 219170\n  end_ms: 221050\n- text: But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  start_ms: 221050\n  end_ms: 224410\n- text: Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  start_ms: 224410\n  end_ms: 227160\n- text: Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  start_ms: 227160\n  end_ms: 229610\n- text: So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  start_ms: 229610\n  end_ms: 231970\n- text: He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  start_ms: 231970\n  end_ms: 234600\n- text: That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  start_ms: 234600\n  end_ms: 237360\n- text: But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 237360\n  end_ms: 239880\n- text: At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  start_ms: 239880\n  end_ms: 242400\n- text: I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 242400\n  end_ms: 244960\n- text: It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  start_ms: 244960\n  end_ms: 247560\n- text: We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 247560\n  end_ms: 249980\n- text: Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  start_ms: 249980\n  end_ms: 252390\n- text: Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 252390\n  end_ms: 255550\n- text: Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  start_ms: 255550\n  end_ms: 258400\n- text: Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  start_ms: 258400\n  end_ms: 261030\n- text: Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  start_ms: 261030\n  end_ms: 263640\n- text: Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  start_ms: 263640\n  end_ms: 266030\n- text: Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  start_ms: 266030\n  end_ms: 268590\n- text: Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  start_ms: 268590\n  end_ms: 270830\n- text: There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  start_ms: 270830\n  end_ms: 273510\n- text: It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  start_ms: 273510\n  end_ms: 276040\n- text: To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  start_ms: 276040\n  end_ms: 278670\n- text: I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  start_ms: 278670\n  end_ms: 281280\n- text: But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  start_ms: 281280\n  end_ms: 283870\n- text: If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  start_ms: 283870\n  end_ms: 286660\n- text: Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n  start_ms: 286660\n  end_ms: 289630\n- text: (Safety, safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 289630\n  end_ms: 294150\n- text: Safety (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 294150\n  end_ms: 298200\n- text: Huh, alright, safety\n  start_ms: 298200\n  end_ms: 300410\n- text: Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 300410\n  end_ms: 306060\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 306060\nplain: |\n  Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n  Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n  Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  I got a new number, delete that old one\n  By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n  It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  How time can rob us of our best days\n  As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n  Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  These processions are for the negligent\n  So I don't care to hang out\n  These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n  Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  It seemed just like a mystery\n  Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  We been known what team he acknowledged\n  Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n  (Safety, safety, safety)\n  Safety (Safety, safety)\n  Huh, alright, safety\n  Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n"},{"id":35496905,"name":"Safety","trackName":"Safety","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"J. Cole Songs","duration":319.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\nAlright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\nIt's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\nKane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\nBonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\nYo, Jermaine, what's the word?\nI got a new number, delete that old one\nBy now, I'm sure you must've heard\n'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\nIt's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\nI never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\nBeggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\nThat ain't my style, it'll never be\nTo me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\nAnd plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\nLast night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\nYou know how he be movin' like he in a rush\nTold him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\nWe sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\nI ain't even know that he smoke like that\nDrank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\nYo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\nBut bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\nLotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\nHow time can rob us of our best days\nAs we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\nBut anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\nI would love to catch up, I know you busy\nBut you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\nStay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\nSafety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\nAyy, bo, what's goin' on?\nI feel no way when you don't respond, dog\nI know your heart, and I know our bond\nI know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\nBut still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\nI heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\nI know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\nCan't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\nWhen moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\nAn uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\nThese processions are for the negligent\nSo I don't care to hang out\nThese younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\nOh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\nHere's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\nWhen she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\nIt's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\nDog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\nFew things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\nAlthough I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\nMost of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\nLike, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\nWas about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\nAnd what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\nLet me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\nunderdogs, now we worldwide)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\nYo, hit me back when you get the chance\nSo many of our peers passed away through the years\nMy appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\nYo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\nFor doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\nThey say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\nIt seemed just like a mystery\nSome say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\nWe been known what team he acknowledged\nSince we was kids, he lived in a closet\nBut that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\nRunnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\nTight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\nSo niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\nHe felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\nThat's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\nBut years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nAt 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\nI shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\nIt's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\nWe turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nNah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\nNow that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\nMan, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\nRest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\nLast summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\nShit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\nBearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\nHere go the obituary, and just in case\nThere's a program attached that gives you the time and place\nIt's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\nTo that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\nI know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\nBut I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\nIf you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\nFuneral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n(Safety, safety, safety)\nSafety (Safety, safety)\nHuh, alright, safety\nDon't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.64] Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n[00:09.68] Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n[00:13.47] It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n[00:15.79] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:18.02] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n[00:20.63] Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n[00:23.59] Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n[00:26.23] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:28.42] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n[00:31.26] Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n[00:32.87] I got a new number, delete that old one\n[00:34.83] By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n[00:36.46] 'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n[00:38.86] It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n[00:41.54] I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n[00:43.75] Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n[00:46.82] That ain't my style, it'll never be\n[00:48.62] To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n[00:51.18] And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n[00:54.55] Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n[00:57.46] You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n[00:59.65] Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n[01:02.42] We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n[01:04.72] I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n[01:06.89] Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n[01:09.36] Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n[01:12.05] But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n[01:14.97] Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n[01:17.60] How time can rob us of our best days\n[01:19.53] As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n[01:23.57] But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n[01:26.52] I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n[01:28.36] But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n[01:30.77] Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n[01:33.65] Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n[01:37.68] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[01:40.68] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n[01:43.48] Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n[01:48.12] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[01:50.92] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n[01:53.96] Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n[01:55.44] I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n[01:57.28] I know your heart, and I know our bond\n[01:59.04] I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n[02:01.65] But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n[02:04.36] I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n[02:07.24] I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n[02:10.37] Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n[02:12.00] When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n[02:15.47] An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n[02:18.35] These processions are for the negligent\n[02:20.36] So I don't care to hang out\n[02:21.88] These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n[02:24.41] Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n[02:27.03] Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n[02:29.55] When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n[02:32.20] It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n[02:34.95] Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n[02:37.12] Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n[02:39.72] Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n[02:42.12] Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n[02:45.08] Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n[02:47.48] Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n[02:50.07] And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n[02:53.44] Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n[02:56.03] Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n[03:00.19] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[03:02.88] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n[03:05.00] Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n[03:10.43] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[03:13.42] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n[03:15.82] Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n[03:18.12] So many of our peers passed away through the years\n[03:20.44] My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n[03:23.24] Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n[03:26.64] For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n[03:29.20] They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n[03:32.71] It seemed just like a mystery\n[03:34.12] Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n[03:37.17] We been known what team he acknowledged\n[03:39.17] Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n[03:41.05] But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n[03:44.41] Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n[03:47.16] Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n[03:49.61] So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n[03:51.97] He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n[03:54.60] That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n[03:57.36] But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[03:59.88] At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n[04:02.40] I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n[04:04.96] It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n[04:07.56] We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[04:09.98] Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n[04:12.39] Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n[04:15.55] Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n[04:18.40] Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n[04:21.03] Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n[04:23.64] Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n[04:26.03] Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n[04:28.59] Here go the obituary, and just in case\n[04:30.83] There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n[04:33.51] It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n[04:36.04] To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n[04:38.67] I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n[04:41.28] But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n[04:43.87] If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n[04:46.66] Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n[04:49.63] (Safety, safety, safety)\n[04:54.15] Safety (Safety, safety)\n[04:58.20] Huh, alright, safety\n[05:00.41] Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n[05:06.06] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Safety\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: J. Cole Songs\n  duration_ms: 319000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n  start_ms: 6640\n  end_ms: 9680\n- text: Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  start_ms: 9680\n  end_ms: 13470\n- text: It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  start_ms: 13470\n  end_ms: 15790\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 15790\n  end_ms: 18020\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 18020\n  end_ms: 20630\n- text: Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  start_ms: 20630\n  end_ms: 23590\n- text: Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 23590\n  end_ms: 26230\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 26230\n  end_ms: 28420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n  start_ms: 28420\n  end_ms: 31260\n- text: Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  start_ms: 31260\n  end_ms: 32870\n- text: I got a new number, delete that old one\n  start_ms: 32870\n  end_ms: 34830\n- text: By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  start_ms: 34830\n  end_ms: 36460\n- text: '''Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some'\n  start_ms: 36460\n  end_ms: 38860\n- text: It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  start_ms: 38860\n  end_ms: 41540\n- text: I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  start_ms: 41540\n  end_ms: 43750\n- text: Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  start_ms: 43750\n  end_ms: 46820\n- text: That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  start_ms: 46820\n  end_ms: 48620\n- text: To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  start_ms: 48620\n  end_ms: 51180\n- text: And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  start_ms: 51180\n  end_ms: 54550\n- text: Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  start_ms: 54550\n  end_ms: 57460\n- text: You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  start_ms: 57460\n  end_ms: 59650\n- text: Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  start_ms: 59650\n  end_ms: 62420\n- text: We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  start_ms: 62420\n  end_ms: 64720\n- text: I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  start_ms: 64720\n  end_ms: 66890\n- text: Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  start_ms: 66890\n  end_ms: 69360\n- text: Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  start_ms: 69360\n  end_ms: 72050\n- text: But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  start_ms: 72050\n  end_ms: 74970\n- text: Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  start_ms: 74970\n  end_ms: 77600\n- text: How time can rob us of our best days\n  start_ms: 77600\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 83570\n- text: But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  start_ms: 83570\n  end_ms: 86520\n- text: I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  start_ms: 86520\n  end_ms: 88360\n- text: But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  start_ms: 88360\n  end_ms: 90770\n- text: Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 90770\n  end_ms: 93650\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 93650\n  end_ms: 97680\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 97680\n  end_ms: 100680\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  start_ms: 100680\n  end_ms: 103480\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  start_ms: 103480\n  end_ms: 108120\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 108120\n  end_ms: 110920\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 110920\n  end_ms: 113960\n- text: Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  start_ms: 113960\n  end_ms: 115440\n- text: I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  start_ms: 115440\n  end_ms: 117280\n- text: I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  start_ms: 117280\n  end_ms: 119040\n- text: I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  start_ms: 119040\n  end_ms: 121650\n- text: But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  start_ms: 121650\n  end_ms: 124360\n- text: I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  start_ms: 124360\n  end_ms: 127240\n- text: I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  start_ms: 127240\n  end_ms: 130370\n- text: Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  start_ms: 130370\n  end_ms: 132000\n- text: When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  start_ms: 132000\n  end_ms: 135470\n- text: An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  start_ms: 135470\n  end_ms: 138350\n- text: These processions are for the negligent\n  start_ms: 138350\n  end_ms: 140360\n- text: So I don't care to hang out\n  start_ms: 140360\n  end_ms: 141880\n- text: These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  start_ms: 141880\n  end_ms: 144410\n- text: Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  start_ms: 144410\n  end_ms: 147030\n- text: Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  start_ms: 147030\n  end_ms: 149550\n- text: When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  start_ms: 149550\n  end_ms: 152200\n- text: It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  start_ms: 152200\n  end_ms: 154950\n- text: Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  start_ms: 154950\n  end_ms: 157120\n- text: Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  start_ms: 157120\n  end_ms: 159720\n- text: Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  start_ms: 159720\n  end_ms: 162120\n- text: Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  start_ms: 162120\n  end_ms: 165080\n- text: Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  start_ms: 165080\n  end_ms: 167480\n- text: Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  start_ms: 167480\n  end_ms: 170070\n- text: And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  start_ms: 170070\n  end_ms: 173440\n- text: Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 173440\n  end_ms: 176030\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 176030\n  end_ms: 180190\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 180190\n  end_ms: 182880\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 182880\n  end_ms: 185000\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  start_ms: 185000\n  end_ms: 190430\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 190430\n  end_ms: 193420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 193420\n  end_ms: 195820\n- text: Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  start_ms: 195820\n  end_ms: 198120\n- text: So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  start_ms: 198120\n  end_ms: 200440\n- text: My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  start_ms: 200440\n  end_ms: 203240\n- text: Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  start_ms: 203240\n  end_ms: 206640\n- text: For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  start_ms: 206640\n  end_ms: 209200\n- text: They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  start_ms: 209200\n  end_ms: 212710\n- text: It seemed just like a mystery\n  start_ms: 212710\n  end_ms: 214120\n- text: Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  start_ms: 214120\n  end_ms: 217170\n- text: We been known what team he acknowledged\n  start_ms: 217170\n  end_ms: 219170\n- text: Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  start_ms: 219170\n  end_ms: 221050\n- text: But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  start_ms: 221050\n  end_ms: 224410\n- text: Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  start_ms: 224410\n  end_ms: 227160\n- text: Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  start_ms: 227160\n  end_ms: 229610\n- text: So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  start_ms: 229610\n  end_ms: 231970\n- text: He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  start_ms: 231970\n  end_ms: 234600\n- text: That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  start_ms: 234600\n  end_ms: 237360\n- text: But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 237360\n  end_ms: 239880\n- text: At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  start_ms: 239880\n  end_ms: 242400\n- text: I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 242400\n  end_ms: 244960\n- text: It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  start_ms: 244960\n  end_ms: 247560\n- text: We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 247560\n  end_ms: 249980\n- text: Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  start_ms: 249980\n  end_ms: 252390\n- text: Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 252390\n  end_ms: 255550\n- text: Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  start_ms: 255550\n  end_ms: 258400\n- text: Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  start_ms: 258400\n  end_ms: 261030\n- text: Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  start_ms: 261030\n  end_ms: 263640\n- text: Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  start_ms: 263640\n  end_ms: 266030\n- text: Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  start_ms: 266030\n  end_ms: 268590\n- text: Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  start_ms: 268590\n  end_ms: 270830\n- text: There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  start_ms: 270830\n  end_ms: 273510\n- text: It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  start_ms: 273510\n  end_ms: 276040\n- text: To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  start_ms: 276040\n  end_ms: 278670\n- text: I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  start_ms: 278670\n  end_ms: 281280\n- text: But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  start_ms: 281280\n  end_ms: 283870\n- text: If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  start_ms: 283870\n  end_ms: 286660\n- text: Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n  start_ms: 286660\n  end_ms: 289630\n- text: (Safety, safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 289630\n  end_ms: 294150\n- text: Safety (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 294150\n  end_ms: 298200\n- text: Huh, alright, safety\n  start_ms: 298200\n  end_ms: 300410\n- text: Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 300410\n  end_ms: 306060\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 306060\nplain: |\n  Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n  Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n  Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  I got a new number, delete that old one\n  By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n  It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  How time can rob us of our best days\n  As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n  Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  These processions are for the negligent\n  So I don't care to hang out\n  These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n  Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  It seemed just like a mystery\n  Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  We been known what team he acknowledged\n  Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n  (Safety, safety, safety)\n  Safety (Safety, safety)\n  Huh, alright, safety\n  Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n"},{"id":34371820,"name":"SAFETY","trackName":"SAFETY","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"SAFETY","duration":319.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\nAlright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\nIt's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\nKane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\nBonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\nYo, Jermaine, what's the word?\nI got a new number, delete that old one\nBy now, I'm sure you must've heard\n'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\nIt's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\nI never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\nBeggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\nThat ain't my style, it'll never be\nTo me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\nAnd plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\nLast night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\nYou know how he be movin' like he in a rush\nTold him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\nWe sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\nI ain't even know that he smoke like that\nDrank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\nYo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\nBut bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\nLotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\nHow time can rob us of our best days\nAs we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\nBut anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\nI would love to catch up, I know you busy\nBut you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\nStay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\nSafety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\nAyy, bo, what's goin' on?\nI feel no way when you don't respond, dog\nI know your heart, and I know our bond\nI know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\nBut still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\nI heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\nI know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\nCan't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\nWhen moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\nAn uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\nThese processions are for the negligent\nSo I don't care to hang out\nThese younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\nOh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\nHere's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\nWhen she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\nIt's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\nDog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\nFew things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\nAlthough I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\nMost of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\nLike, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\nWas about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\nAnd what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\nLet me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\nunderdogs, now we worldwide)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\nYo, hit me back when you get the chance\nSo many of our peers passed away through the years\nMy appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\nYo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\nFor doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\nThey say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\nIt seemed just like a mystery\nSome say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\nWe been known what team he acknowledged\nSince we was kids, he lived in a closet\nBut that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\nRunnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\nTight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\nSo niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\nHe felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\nThat's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\nBut years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nAt 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\nI shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\nIt's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\nWe turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nNah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\nNow that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\nMan, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\nRest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\nLast summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\nShit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\nBearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\nHere go the obituary, and just in case\nThere's a program attached that gives you the time and place\nIt's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\nTo that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\nI know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\nBut I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\nIf you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\nFuneral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n(Safety, safety, safety)\nSafety (Safety, safety)\nHuh, alright, safety\nDon't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.64] Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n[00:09.68] Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n[00:13.47] It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n[00:15.79] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:18.02] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n[00:20.63] Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n[00:23.59] Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n[00:26.23] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:28.42] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n[00:31.26] Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n[00:32.87] I got a new number, delete that old one\n[00:34.83] By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n[00:36.46] 'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n[00:38.86] It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n[00:41.54] I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n[00:43.75] Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n[00:46.82] That ain't my style, it'll never be\n[00:48.62] To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n[00:51.18] And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n[00:54.55] Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n[00:57.46] You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n[00:59.65] Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n[01:02.42] We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n[01:04.72] I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n[01:06.89] Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n[01:09.36] Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n[01:12.05] But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n[01:14.97] Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n[01:17.60] How time can rob us of our best days\n[01:19.53] As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n[01:23.57] But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n[01:26.52] I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n[01:28.36] But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n[01:30.77] Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n[01:33.65] Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n[01:37.68] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[01:40.68] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n[01:43.48] Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n[01:48.12] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[01:50.92] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n[01:53.96] Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n[01:55.44] I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n[01:57.28] I know your heart, and I know our bond\n[01:59.04] I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n[02:01.65] But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n[02:04.36] I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n[02:07.24] I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n[02:10.37] Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n[02:12.00] When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n[02:15.47] An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n[02:18.35] These processions are for the negligent\n[02:20.36] So I don't care to hang out\n[02:21.88] These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n[02:24.41] Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n[02:27.03] Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n[02:29.55] When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n[02:32.20] It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n[02:34.95] Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n[02:37.12] Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n[02:39.72] Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n[02:42.12] Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n[02:45.08] Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n[02:47.48] Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n[02:50.07] And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n[02:53.44] Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n[02:56.03] Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n[03:00.19] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[03:02.88] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n[03:05.00] Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n[03:10.43] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[03:13.42] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n[03:15.82] Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n[03:18.12] So many of our peers passed away through the years\n[03:20.44] My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n[03:23.24] Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n[03:26.64] For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n[03:29.20] They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n[03:32.71] It seemed just like a mystery\n[03:34.12] Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n[03:37.17] We been known what team he acknowledged\n[03:39.17] Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n[03:41.05] But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n[03:44.41] Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n[03:47.16] Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n[03:49.61] So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n[03:51.97] He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n[03:54.60] That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n[03:57.36] But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[03:59.88] At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n[04:02.40] I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n[04:04.96] It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n[04:07.56] We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[04:09.98] Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n[04:12.39] Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n[04:15.55] Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n[04:18.40] Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n[04:21.03] Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n[04:23.64] Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n[04:26.03] Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n[04:28.59] Here go the obituary, and just in case\n[04:30.83] There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n[04:33.51] It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n[04:36.04] To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n[04:38.67] I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n[04:41.28] But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n[04:43.87] If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n[04:46.66] Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n[04:49.63] (Safety, safety, safety)\n[04:54.15] Safety (Safety, safety)\n[04:58.20] Huh, alright, safety\n[05:00.41] Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n[05:06.06] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: SAFETY\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: SAFETY\n  duration_ms: 319000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n  start_ms: 6640\n  end_ms: 9680\n- text: Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  start_ms: 9680\n  end_ms: 13470\n- text: It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  start_ms: 13470\n  end_ms: 15790\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 15790\n  end_ms: 18020\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 18020\n  end_ms: 20630\n- text: Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  start_ms: 20630\n  end_ms: 23590\n- text: Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 23590\n  end_ms: 26230\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 26230\n  end_ms: 28420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n  start_ms: 28420\n  end_ms: 31260\n- text: Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  start_ms: 31260\n  end_ms: 32870\n- text: I got a new number, delete that old one\n  start_ms: 32870\n  end_ms: 34830\n- text: By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  start_ms: 34830\n  end_ms: 36460\n- text: '''Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some'\n  start_ms: 36460\n  end_ms: 38860\n- text: It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  start_ms: 38860\n  end_ms: 41540\n- text: I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  start_ms: 41540\n  end_ms: 43750\n- text: Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  start_ms: 43750\n  end_ms: 46820\n- text: That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  start_ms: 46820\n  end_ms: 48620\n- text: To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  start_ms: 48620\n  end_ms: 51180\n- text: And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  start_ms: 51180\n  end_ms: 54550\n- text: Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  start_ms: 54550\n  end_ms: 57460\n- text: You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  start_ms: 57460\n  end_ms: 59650\n- text: Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  start_ms: 59650\n  end_ms: 62420\n- text: We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  start_ms: 62420\n  end_ms: 64720\n- text: I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  start_ms: 64720\n  end_ms: 66890\n- text: Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  start_ms: 66890\n  end_ms: 69360\n- text: Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  start_ms: 69360\n  end_ms: 72050\n- text: But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  start_ms: 72050\n  end_ms: 74970\n- text: Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  start_ms: 74970\n  end_ms: 77600\n- text: How time can rob us of our best days\n  start_ms: 77600\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 83570\n- text: But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  start_ms: 83570\n  end_ms: 86520\n- text: I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  start_ms: 86520\n  end_ms: 88360\n- text: But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  start_ms: 88360\n  end_ms: 90770\n- text: Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 90770\n  end_ms: 93650\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 93650\n  end_ms: 97680\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 97680\n  end_ms: 100680\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  start_ms: 100680\n  end_ms: 103480\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  start_ms: 103480\n  end_ms: 108120\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 108120\n  end_ms: 110920\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 110920\n  end_ms: 113960\n- text: Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  start_ms: 113960\n  end_ms: 115440\n- text: I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  start_ms: 115440\n  end_ms: 117280\n- text: I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  start_ms: 117280\n  end_ms: 119040\n- text: I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  start_ms: 119040\n  end_ms: 121650\n- text: But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  start_ms: 121650\n  end_ms: 124360\n- text: I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  start_ms: 124360\n  end_ms: 127240\n- text: I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  start_ms: 127240\n  end_ms: 130370\n- text: Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  start_ms: 130370\n  end_ms: 132000\n- text: When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  start_ms: 132000\n  end_ms: 135470\n- text: An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  start_ms: 135470\n  end_ms: 138350\n- text: These processions are for the negligent\n  start_ms: 138350\n  end_ms: 140360\n- text: So I don't care to hang out\n  start_ms: 140360\n  end_ms: 141880\n- text: These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  start_ms: 141880\n  end_ms: 144410\n- text: Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  start_ms: 144410\n  end_ms: 147030\n- text: Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  start_ms: 147030\n  end_ms: 149550\n- text: When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  start_ms: 149550\n  end_ms: 152200\n- text: It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  start_ms: 152200\n  end_ms: 154950\n- text: Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  start_ms: 154950\n  end_ms: 157120\n- text: Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  start_ms: 157120\n  end_ms: 159720\n- text: Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  start_ms: 159720\n  end_ms: 162120\n- text: Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  start_ms: 162120\n  end_ms: 165080\n- text: Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  start_ms: 165080\n  end_ms: 167480\n- text: Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  start_ms: 167480\n  end_ms: 170070\n- text: And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  start_ms: 170070\n  end_ms: 173440\n- text: Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 173440\n  end_ms: 176030\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 176030\n  end_ms: 180190\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 180190\n  end_ms: 182880\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 182880\n  end_ms: 185000\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  start_ms: 185000\n  end_ms: 190430\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 190430\n  end_ms: 193420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 193420\n  end_ms: 195820\n- text: Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  start_ms: 195820\n  end_ms: 198120\n- text: So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  start_ms: 198120\n  end_ms: 200440\n- text: My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  start_ms: 200440\n  end_ms: 203240\n- text: Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  start_ms: 203240\n  end_ms: 206640\n- text: For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  start_ms: 206640\n  end_ms: 209200\n- text: They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  start_ms: 209200\n  end_ms: 212710\n- text: It seemed just like a mystery\n  start_ms: 212710\n  end_ms: 214120\n- text: Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  start_ms: 214120\n  end_ms: 217170\n- text: We been known what team he acknowledged\n  start_ms: 217170\n  end_ms: 219170\n- text: Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  start_ms: 219170\n  end_ms: 221050\n- text: But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  start_ms: 221050\n  end_ms: 224410\n- text: Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  start_ms: 224410\n  end_ms: 227160\n- text: Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  start_ms: 227160\n  end_ms: 229610\n- text: So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  start_ms: 229610\n  end_ms: 231970\n- text: He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  start_ms: 231970\n  end_ms: 234600\n- text: That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  start_ms: 234600\n  end_ms: 237360\n- text: But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 237360\n  end_ms: 239880\n- text: At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  start_ms: 239880\n  end_ms: 242400\n- text: I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 242400\n  end_ms: 244960\n- text: It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  start_ms: 244960\n  end_ms: 247560\n- text: We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 247560\n  end_ms: 249980\n- text: Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  start_ms: 249980\n  end_ms: 252390\n- text: Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 252390\n  end_ms: 255550\n- text: Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  start_ms: 255550\n  end_ms: 258400\n- text: Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  start_ms: 258400\n  end_ms: 261030\n- text: Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  start_ms: 261030\n  end_ms: 263640\n- text: Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  start_ms: 263640\n  end_ms: 266030\n- text: Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  start_ms: 266030\n  end_ms: 268590\n- text: Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  start_ms: 268590\n  end_ms: 270830\n- text: There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  start_ms: 270830\n  end_ms: 273510\n- text: It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  start_ms: 273510\n  end_ms: 276040\n- text: To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  start_ms: 276040\n  end_ms: 278670\n- text: I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  start_ms: 278670\n  end_ms: 281280\n- text: But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  start_ms: 281280\n  end_ms: 283870\n- text: If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  start_ms: 283870\n  end_ms: 286660\n- text: Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n  start_ms: 286660\n  end_ms: 289630\n- text: (Safety, safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 289630\n  end_ms: 294150\n- text: Safety (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 294150\n  end_ms: 298200\n- text: Huh, alright, safety\n  start_ms: 298200\n  end_ms: 300410\n- text: Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 300410\n  end_ms: 306060\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 306060\nplain: |\n  Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n  Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n  Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  I got a new number, delete that old one\n  By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n  It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  How time can rob us of our best days\n  As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n  Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  These processions are for the negligent\n  So I don't care to hang out\n  These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n  Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  It seemed just like a mystery\n  Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  We been known what team he acknowledged\n  Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n  (Safety, safety, safety)\n  Safety (Safety, safety)\n  Huh, alright, safety\n  Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n"},{"id":35755972,"name":"J. Cole - SAFETY","trackName":"J. Cole - SAFETY","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"The Fall-Off","duration":318.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Bae, can you go check on her real quick?\n\nAlright, safety (where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up)\n(Bae, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\nIt's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (safety)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safety)\nCain Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\nBonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (alright, safety)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\nYo, Jermaine, what's the word?\nI got a new numbеr, delete that old onе\nBy now, I'm sure you must've heard\n'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\nIt's nothin', though I did longer bids, this was a quick one\nI never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\nBeggin' you for big sums of dough\nWhen income's low, that ain't my style, it'll never be\n\nTo me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\nAnd plus, you did enough, wired me bands\nWay back when it was rough, last night\nWhen it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\nYou know how he be movin' like he in a rush\nTold him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\nWe sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\nI ain't even know that he smoke like that\n\nDrank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\nYo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\nBut bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n\nLotta these hos fallin' off, and it's real sad\nHow time can rob us of our best days\nAs we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg\nSaved for rainy days, but anyways, what's up?\nI thought about you, holla at me\nI would love to catch up, but I know you busy\nBut you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\nStay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up)\n(Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\nSafety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dawgs from)\n(Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\nAy, bro, what's goin' on?\nI feel no way when you don't respond, dog\nI know your heart, and I know our bond\nI know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\nBut still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\nI heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\nI know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\nCan't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\nWhen moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n\nAn uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\nThese processions are for the negligent\nSo I don't care to hang out\nThese younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\nOh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\nHere's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\nWhen she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\nIt's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n\nDog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\nFew things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\nAlthough I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\nMost of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\nLike, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\nWas about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\nAnd what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\nLet me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n(Safety, safety, safety) Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up (whoo)\n(Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\nSafety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up)\n(Calm down, underdogs, now we worldwide)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\nYo, hit me back when you get the chance\nSo many of our peers passed away through the years\nMy appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\nYo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\nFor doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\nThey say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\nIt seemed just like a mystery\nSome say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n\nWe been known what team he acknowledged\nSince we was kids, he lived in a closet\nBut that changed soon as he went to college\nUp there wilin' in the A&T, runnin' with fruity types\nDick in the booty types, tight pants\nSwitchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\nSo niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\nHe felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\nThat's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n\nBut years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (oh-oh-oh-oh)\nAt 2 a.m., with a lace front, dressin' in drag\nI shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (oh-oh)\nIt's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\nWe turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa- (oh-oh-oh-oh)\nNah, time's changed, I know that's wrong, now that we grown\nI wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (oh-oh)\nMan, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\nRest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n\nLast summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\nShit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\nBearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\nHere go the obituary, and just in case\nThere's a program attached that gives you the time and place\nIt's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\nTo that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n\nI know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\nBut I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\nIf you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\nFuneral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n(Safety, safety, safety)\nSafety (safety, safety)\nHuh, alright, safety\nDon't want to go back (safety, safety), time's up, too stressed to reply","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.43] Bae, can you go check on her real quick?\n[00:09.73] Alright, safety (where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up)\n[00:12.98] (Bae, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n[00:13.35] It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (safety)\n[00:15.89] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:17.94] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safety)\n[00:21.19] Cain Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n[00:23.37] Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (alright, safety)\n[00:25.98] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:28.08] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n[00:31.20] Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n[00:33.03] I got a new numbеr, delete that old onе\n[00:34.97] By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n[00:36.57] 'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n[00:38.86] It's nothin', though I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n[00:41.61] I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n[00:44.04] Beggin' you for big sums of dough\n[00:46.02] When income's low, that ain't my style, it'll never be\n[00:48.77] To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n[00:51.31] And plus, you did enough, wired me bands\n[00:53.15] Way back when it was rough, last night\n[00:55.18] When it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n[00:57.43] You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n[00:59.69] Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n[01:02.45] We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n[01:04.86] I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n[01:06.41] Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n[01:09.49] Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n[01:11.87] But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n[01:15.29] Lotta these hos fallin' off, and it's real sad\n[01:17.52] How time can rob us of our best days\n[01:19.70] As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg\n[01:22.12] Saved for rainy days, but anyways, what's up?\n[01:24.89] I thought about you, holla at me\n[01:26.36] I would love to catch up, but I know you busy\n[01:28.22] But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n[01:30.93] Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n[01:33.25] Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up)\n[01:35.60] (Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n[01:37.91] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\n[01:40.54] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n[01:43.20] Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dawgs from)\n[01:46.14] (Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n[01:48.22] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[01:50.57] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n[01:53.61] Ay, bro, what's goin' on?\n[01:55.13] I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n[01:56.92] I know your heart, and I know our bond\n[01:59.03] I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n[02:01.51] But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n[02:04.04] I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n[02:06.88] I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n[02:10.10] Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n[02:12.48] When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n[02:15.18] An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n[02:18.66] These processions are for the negligent\n[02:20.44] So I don't care to hang out\n[02:21.69] These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n[02:24.34] Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n[02:26.61] Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n[02:29.39] When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n[02:32.15] It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n[02:34.82] Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n[02:36.82] Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n[02:39.54] Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n[02:42.08] Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n[02:44.74] Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n[02:47.28] Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n[02:49.74] And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n[02:53.04] Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n[02:55.49] (Safety, safety, safety) Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up (whoo)\n[02:58.49] (Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n[03:00.55] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\n[03:03.34] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n[03:05.91] Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up)\n[03:08.63] (Calm down, underdogs, now we worldwide)\n[03:10.86] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[03:13.55] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n[03:16.05] Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n[03:17.90] So many of our peers passed away through the years\n[03:20.46] My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n[03:23.20] Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n[03:26.79] For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n[03:29.36] They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n[03:32.58] It seemed just like a mystery\n[03:34.37] Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n[03:37.32] We been known what team he acknowledged\n[03:38.92] Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n[03:40.77] But that changed soon as he went to college\n[03:42.66] Up there wilin' in the A&T, runnin' with fruity types\n[03:45.24] Dick in the booty types, tight pants\n[03:47.86] Switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n[03:49.51] So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n[03:51.96] He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n[03:54.38] That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n[03:56.96] But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[03:59.75] At 2 a.m., with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n[04:02.43] I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (oh-oh)\n[04:05.14] It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n[04:07.70] We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa- (oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[04:10.38] Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong, now that we grown\n[04:12.84] I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (oh-oh)\n[04:15.59] Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n[04:18.03] Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n[04:21.08] Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n[04:23.41] Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n[04:25.66] Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n[04:28.45] Here go the obituary, and just in case\n[04:31.07] There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n[04:33.62] It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n[04:35.95] To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n[04:38.53] I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n[04:41.02] But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n[04:43.54] If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n[04:46.20] Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n[04:50.71] (Safety, safety, safety)\n[04:53.91] Safety (safety, safety)\n[04:57.92] Huh, alright, safety\n[04:59.53] Don't want to go back (safety, safety), time's up, too stressed to reply\n[05:03.69] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: J. Cole - SAFETY\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: The Fall-Off\n  duration_ms: 318000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Bae, can you go check on her real quick?\n  start_ms: 6430\n  end_ms: 9730\n- text: Alright, safety (where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 9730\n  end_ms: 12980\n- text: (Bae, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  start_ms: 12980\n  end_ms: 13350\n- text: It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (safety)\n  start_ms: 13350\n  end_ms: 15890\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 15890\n  end_ms: 17940\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safety)\n  start_ms: 17940\n  end_ms: 21190\n- text: Cain Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  start_ms: 21190\n  end_ms: 23370\n- text: Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (alright, safety)\n  start_ms: 23370\n  end_ms: 25980\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 25980\n  end_ms: 28080\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n  start_ms: 28080\n  end_ms: 31200\n- text: Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  start_ms: 31200\n  end_ms: 33030\n- text: I got a new numbеr, delete that old onе\n  start_ms: 33030\n  end_ms: 34970\n- text: By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  start_ms: 34970\n  end_ms: 36570\n- text: '''Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some'\n  start_ms: 36570\n  end_ms: 38860\n- text: It's nothin', though I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  start_ms: 38860\n  end_ms: 41610\n- text: I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  start_ms: 41610\n  end_ms: 44040\n- text: Beggin' you for big sums of dough\n  start_ms: 44040\n  end_ms: 46020\n- text: When income's low, that ain't my style, it'll never be\n  start_ms: 46020\n  end_ms: 48770\n- text: To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  start_ms: 48770\n  end_ms: 51310\n- text: And plus, you did enough, wired me bands\n  start_ms: 51310\n  end_ms: 53150\n- text: Way back when it was rough, last night\n  start_ms: 53150\n  end_ms: 55180\n- text: When it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  start_ms: 55180\n  end_ms: 57430\n- text: You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  start_ms: 57430\n  end_ms: 59690\n- text: Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  start_ms: 59690\n  end_ms: 62450\n- text: We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  start_ms: 62450\n  end_ms: 64860\n- text: I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  start_ms: 64860\n  end_ms: 66410\n- text: Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  start_ms: 66410\n  end_ms: 69490\n- text: Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  start_ms: 69490\n  end_ms: 71870\n- text: But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  start_ms: 71870\n  end_ms: 75290\n- text: Lotta these hos fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  start_ms: 75290\n  end_ms: 77520\n- text: How time can rob us of our best days\n  start_ms: 77520\n  end_ms: 79700\n- text: As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg\n  start_ms: 79700\n  end_ms: 82120\n- text: Saved for rainy days, but anyways, what's up?\n  start_ms: 82120\n  end_ms: 84890\n- text: I thought about you, holla at me\n  start_ms: 84890\n  end_ms: 86360\n- text: I would love to catch up, but I know you busy\n  start_ms: 86360\n  end_ms: 88220\n- text: But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  start_ms: 88220\n  end_ms: 90930\n- text: Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 90930\n  end_ms: 93250\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 93250\n  end_ms: 95600\n- text: (Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 95600\n  end_ms: 97910\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 97910\n  end_ms: 100540\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  start_ms: 100540\n  end_ms: 103200\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dawgs from)\n  start_ms: 103200\n  end_ms: 106140\n- text: (Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  start_ms: 106140\n  end_ms: 108220\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 108220\n  end_ms: 110570\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 110570\n  end_ms: 113610\n- text: Ay, bro, what's goin' on?\n  start_ms: 113610\n  end_ms: 115130\n- text: I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  start_ms: 115130\n  end_ms: 116920\n- text: I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  start_ms: 116920\n  end_ms: 119030\n- text: I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  start_ms: 119030\n  end_ms: 121510\n- text: But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  start_ms: 121510\n  end_ms: 124040\n- text: I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  start_ms: 124040\n  end_ms: 126880\n- text: I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  start_ms: 126880\n  end_ms: 130100\n- text: Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  start_ms: 130100\n  end_ms: 132480\n- text: When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  start_ms: 132480\n  end_ms: 135180\n- text: An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  start_ms: 135180\n  end_ms: 138660\n- text: These processions are for the negligent\n  start_ms: 138660\n  end_ms: 140440\n- text: So I don't care to hang out\n  start_ms: 140440\n  end_ms: 141690\n- text: These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  start_ms: 141690\n  end_ms: 144340\n- text: Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  start_ms: 144340\n  end_ms: 146610\n- text: Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  start_ms: 146610\n  end_ms: 149390\n- text: When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  start_ms: 149390\n  end_ms: 152150\n- text: It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  start_ms: 152150\n  end_ms: 154820\n- text: Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  start_ms: 154820\n  end_ms: 156820\n- text: Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  start_ms: 156820\n  end_ms: 159540\n- text: Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  start_ms: 159540\n  end_ms: 162080\n- text: Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  start_ms: 162080\n  end_ms: 164740\n- text: Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  start_ms: 164740\n  end_ms: 167280\n- text: Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  start_ms: 167280\n  end_ms: 169740\n- text: And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  start_ms: 169740\n  end_ms: 173040\n- text: Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 173040\n  end_ms: 175490\n- text: (Safety, safety, safety) Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up (whoo)\n  start_ms: 175490\n  end_ms: 178490\n- text: (Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 178490\n  end_ms: 180550\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 180550\n  end_ms: 183340\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 183340\n  end_ms: 185910\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up)\n  start_ms: 185910\n  end_ms: 188630\n- text: (Calm down, underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  start_ms: 188630\n  end_ms: 190860\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 190860\n  end_ms: 193550\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 193550\n  end_ms: 196050\n- text: Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  start_ms: 196050\n  end_ms: 197900\n- text: So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  start_ms: 197900\n  end_ms: 200460\n- text: My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  start_ms: 200460\n  end_ms: 203200\n- text: Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  start_ms: 203200\n  end_ms: 206790\n- text: For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  start_ms: 206790\n  end_ms: 209360\n- text: They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  start_ms: 209360\n  end_ms: 212580\n- text: It seemed just like a mystery\n  start_ms: 212580\n  end_ms: 214370\n- text: Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  start_ms: 214370\n  end_ms: 217320\n- text: We been known what team he acknowledged\n  start_ms: 217320\n  end_ms: 218920\n- text: Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  start_ms: 218920\n  end_ms: 220770\n- text: But that changed soon as he went to college\n  start_ms: 220770\n  end_ms: 222660\n- text: Up there wilin' in the A&T, runnin' with fruity types\n  start_ms: 222660\n  end_ms: 225240\n- text: Dick in the booty types, tight pants\n  start_ms: 225240\n  end_ms: 227860\n- text: Switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  start_ms: 227860\n  end_ms: 229510\n- text: So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  start_ms: 229510\n  end_ms: 231960\n- text: He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  start_ms: 231960\n  end_ms: 234380\n- text: That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  start_ms: 234380\n  end_ms: 236960\n- text: But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 236960\n  end_ms: 239750\n- text: At 2 a.m., with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  start_ms: 239750\n  end_ms: 242430\n- text: I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 242430\n  end_ms: 245140\n- text: It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  start_ms: 245140\n  end_ms: 247700\n- text: We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa- (oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 247700\n  end_ms: 250380\n- text: Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong, now that we grown\n  start_ms: 250380\n  end_ms: 252840\n- text: I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 252840\n  end_ms: 255590\n- text: Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  start_ms: 255590\n  end_ms: 258030\n- text: Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  start_ms: 258030\n  end_ms: 261080\n- text: Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  start_ms: 261080\n  end_ms: 263410\n- text: Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  start_ms: 263410\n  end_ms: 265660\n- text: Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  start_ms: 265660\n  end_ms: 268450\n- text: Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  start_ms: 268450\n  end_ms: 271070\n- text: There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  start_ms: 271070\n  end_ms: 273620\n- text: It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  start_ms: 273620\n  end_ms: 275950\n- text: To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  start_ms: 275950\n  end_ms: 278530\n- text: I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  start_ms: 278530\n  end_ms: 281020\n- text: But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  start_ms: 281020\n  end_ms: 283540\n- text: If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  start_ms: 283540\n  end_ms: 286200\n- text: Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n  start_ms: 286200\n  end_ms: 290710\n- text: (Safety, safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 290710\n  end_ms: 293910\n- text: Safety (safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 293910\n  end_ms: 297920\n- text: Huh, alright, safety\n  start_ms: 297920\n  end_ms: 299530\n- text: Don't want to go back (safety, safety), time's up, too stressed to reply\n  start_ms: 299530\n  end_ms: 303690\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 303690\nplain: |-\n  Bae, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n  Alright, safety (where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up)\n  (Bae, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (safety)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safety)\n  Cain Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (alright, safety)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n  Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  I got a new numbеr, delete that old onе\n  By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n  It's nothin', though I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  Beggin' you for big sums of dough\n  When income's low, that ain't my style, it'll never be\n\n  To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  And plus, you did enough, wired me bands\n  Way back when it was rough, last night\n  When it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n\n  Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n\n  Lotta these hos fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  How time can rob us of our best days\n  As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg\n  Saved for rainy days, but anyways, what's up?\n  I thought about you, holla at me\n  I would love to catch up, but I know you busy\n  But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up)\n  (Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dawgs from)\n  (Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n  Ay, bro, what's goin' on?\n  I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n\n  An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  These processions are for the negligent\n  So I don't care to hang out\n  These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n\n  Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n  (Safety, safety, safety) Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up (whoo)\n  (Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up)\n  (Calm down, underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n  Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  It seemed just like a mystery\n  Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n\n  We been known what team he acknowledged\n  Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  But that changed soon as he went to college\n  Up there wilin' in the A&T, runnin' with fruity types\n  Dick in the booty types, tight pants\n  Switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n\n  But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  At 2 a.m., with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (oh-oh)\n  It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa- (oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong, now that we grown\n  I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (oh-oh)\n  Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n\n  Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n\n  I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n  (Safety, safety, safety)\n  Safety (safety, safety)\n  Huh, alright, safety\n  Don't want to go back (safety, safety), time's up, too stressed to reply\n"},{"id":29886648,"name":"SAFETY","trackName":"SAFETY","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"J. Cole – The Fall-Off","duration":318.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\nAlright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\nIt's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\nKane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\nBonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\nYo, Jermaine, what's the word?\nI got a new number, delete that old one\nBy now, I'm sure you must've heard\n'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\nIt's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\nI never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\nBeggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\nThat ain't my style, it'll never be\nTo me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\nAnd plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\nLast night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\nYou know how he be movin' like he in a rush\nTold him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\nWe sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\nI ain't even know that he smoke like that\nDrank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\nYo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\nBut bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\nLotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\nHow time can rob us of our best days\nAs we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\nBut anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\nI would love to catch up, I know you busy\nBut you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\nStay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\nSafety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\nAyy, bo, what's goin' on?\nI feel no way when you don't respond, dog\nI know your heart, and I know our bond\nI know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\nBut still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\nI heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\nI know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\nCan't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\nWhen moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\nAn uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\nThese processions are for the negligent\nSo I don't care to hang out\nThese younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\nOh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\nHere's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\nWhen she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\nIt's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\nDog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\nFew things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\nAlthough I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\nMost of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\nLike, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\nWas about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\nAnd what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\nLet me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\nunderdogs, now we worldwide)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\nYo, hit me back when you get the chance\nSo many of our peers passed away through the years\nMy appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\nYo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\nFor doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\nThey say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\nIt seemed just like a mystery\nSome say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\nWe been known what team he acknowledged\nSince we was kids, he lived in a closet\nBut that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\nRunnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\nTight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\nSo niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\nHe felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\nThat's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\nBut years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nAt 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\nI shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\nIt's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\nWe turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nNah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\nNow that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\nMan, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\nRest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\nLast summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\nShit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\nBearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\nHere go the obituary, and just in case\nThere's a program attached that gives you the time and place\nIt's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\nTo that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\nI know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\nBut I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\nIf you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\nFuneral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n(Safety, safety, safety)\nSafety (Safety, safety)\nHuh, alright, safety\nDon't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.64] Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n[00:09.68] Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n[00:13.47] It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n[00:15.79] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:18.02] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n[00:20.63] Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n[00:23.59] Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n[00:26.23] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:28.42] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n[00:31.26] Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n[00:32.87] I got a new number, delete that old one\n[00:34.83] By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n[00:36.46] 'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n[00:38.86] It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n[00:41.54] I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n[00:43.75] Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n[00:46.82] That ain't my style, it'll never be\n[00:48.62] To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n[00:51.18] And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n[00:54.55] Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n[00:57.46] You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n[00:59.65] Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n[01:02.42] We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n[01:04.72] I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n[01:06.89] Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n[01:09.36] Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n[01:12.05] But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n[01:14.97] Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n[01:17.60] How time can rob us of our best days\n[01:19.53] As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n[01:23.57] But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n[01:26.52] I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n[01:28.36] But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n[01:30.77] Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n[01:33.65] Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n[01:37.68] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[01:40.68] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n[01:43.48] Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n[01:48.12] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[01:50.92] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n[01:53.96] Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n[01:55.44] I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n[01:57.28] I know your heart, and I know our bond\n[01:59.04] I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n[02:01.65] But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n[02:04.36] I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n[02:07.24] I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n[02:10.37] Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n[02:12.00] When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n[02:15.47] An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n[02:18.35] These processions are for the negligent\n[02:20.36] So I don't care to hang out\n[02:21.88] These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n[02:24.41] Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n[02:27.03] Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n[02:29.55] When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n[02:32.20] It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n[02:34.95] Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n[02:37.12] Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n[02:39.72] Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n[02:42.12] Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n[02:45.08] Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n[02:47.48] Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n[02:50.07] And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n[02:53.44] Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n[02:56.03] Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n[03:00.19] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[03:02.88] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n[03:05.00] Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n[03:10.43] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[03:13.42] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n[03:15.82] Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n[03:18.12] So many of our peers passed away through the years\n[03:20.44] My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n[03:23.24] Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n[03:26.64] For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n[03:29.20] They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n[03:32.71] It seemed just like a mystery\n[03:34.12] Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n[03:37.17] We been known what team he acknowledged\n[03:39.17] Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n[03:41.05] But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n[03:44.41] Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n[03:47.16] Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n[03:49.61] So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n[03:51.97] He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n[03:54.60] That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n[03:57.36] But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[03:59.88] At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n[04:02.40] I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n[04:04.96] It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n[04:07.56] We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[04:09.98] Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n[04:12.39] Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n[04:15.55] Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n[04:18.40] Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n[04:21.03] Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n[04:23.64] Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n[04:26.03] Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n[04:28.59] Here go the obituary, and just in case\n[04:30.83] There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n[04:33.51] It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n[04:36.04] To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n[04:38.67] I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n[04:41.28] But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n[04:43.87] If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n[04:46.66] Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n[04:49.63] (Safety, safety, safety)\n[04:54.15] Safety (Safety, safety)\n[04:58.20] Huh, alright, safety\n[05:00.41] Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n[05:06.06] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: SAFETY\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: J. Cole – The Fall-Off\n  duration_ms: 318000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n  start_ms: 6640\n  end_ms: 9680\n- text: Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  start_ms: 9680\n  end_ms: 13470\n- text: It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  start_ms: 13470\n  end_ms: 15790\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 15790\n  end_ms: 18020\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 18020\n  end_ms: 20630\n- text: Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  start_ms: 20630\n  end_ms: 23590\n- text: Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 23590\n  end_ms: 26230\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 26230\n  end_ms: 28420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n  start_ms: 28420\n  end_ms: 31260\n- text: Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  start_ms: 31260\n  end_ms: 32870\n- text: I got a new number, delete that old one\n  start_ms: 32870\n  end_ms: 34830\n- text: By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  start_ms: 34830\n  end_ms: 36460\n- text: '''Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some'\n  start_ms: 36460\n  end_ms: 38860\n- text: It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  start_ms: 38860\n  end_ms: 41540\n- text: I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  start_ms: 41540\n  end_ms: 43750\n- text: Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  start_ms: 43750\n  end_ms: 46820\n- text: That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  start_ms: 46820\n  end_ms: 48620\n- text: To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  start_ms: 48620\n  end_ms: 51180\n- text: And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  start_ms: 51180\n  end_ms: 54550\n- text: Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  start_ms: 54550\n  end_ms: 57460\n- text: You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  start_ms: 57460\n  end_ms: 59650\n- text: Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  start_ms: 59650\n  end_ms: 62420\n- text: We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  start_ms: 62420\n  end_ms: 64720\n- text: I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  start_ms: 64720\n  end_ms: 66890\n- text: Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  start_ms: 66890\n  end_ms: 69360\n- text: Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  start_ms: 69360\n  end_ms: 72050\n- text: But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  start_ms: 72050\n  end_ms: 74970\n- text: Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  start_ms: 74970\n  end_ms: 77600\n- text: How time can rob us of our best days\n  start_ms: 77600\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 83570\n- text: But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  start_ms: 83570\n  end_ms: 86520\n- text: I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  start_ms: 86520\n  end_ms: 88360\n- text: But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  start_ms: 88360\n  end_ms: 90770\n- text: Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 90770\n  end_ms: 93650\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 93650\n  end_ms: 97680\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 97680\n  end_ms: 100680\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  start_ms: 100680\n  end_ms: 103480\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  start_ms: 103480\n  end_ms: 108120\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 108120\n  end_ms: 110920\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 110920\n  end_ms: 113960\n- text: Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  start_ms: 113960\n  end_ms: 115440\n- text: I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  start_ms: 115440\n  end_ms: 117280\n- text: I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  start_ms: 117280\n  end_ms: 119040\n- text: I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  start_ms: 119040\n  end_ms: 121650\n- text: But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  start_ms: 121650\n  end_ms: 124360\n- text: I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  start_ms: 124360\n  end_ms: 127240\n- text: I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  start_ms: 127240\n  end_ms: 130370\n- text: Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  start_ms: 130370\n  end_ms: 132000\n- text: When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  start_ms: 132000\n  end_ms: 135470\n- text: An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  start_ms: 135470\n  end_ms: 138350\n- text: These processions are for the negligent\n  start_ms: 138350\n  end_ms: 140360\n- text: So I don't care to hang out\n  start_ms: 140360\n  end_ms: 141880\n- text: These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  start_ms: 141880\n  end_ms: 144410\n- text: Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  start_ms: 144410\n  end_ms: 147030\n- text: Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  start_ms: 147030\n  end_ms: 149550\n- text: When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  start_ms: 149550\n  end_ms: 152200\n- text: It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  start_ms: 152200\n  end_ms: 154950\n- text: Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  start_ms: 154950\n  end_ms: 157120\n- text: Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  start_ms: 157120\n  end_ms: 159720\n- text: Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  start_ms: 159720\n  end_ms: 162120\n- text: Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  start_ms: 162120\n  end_ms: 165080\n- text: Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  start_ms: 165080\n  end_ms: 167480\n- text: Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  start_ms: 167480\n  end_ms: 170070\n- text: And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  start_ms: 170070\n  end_ms: 173440\n- text: Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 173440\n  end_ms: 176030\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 176030\n  end_ms: 180190\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 180190\n  end_ms: 182880\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 182880\n  end_ms: 185000\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  start_ms: 185000\n  end_ms: 190430\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 190430\n  end_ms: 193420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 193420\n  end_ms: 195820\n- text: Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  start_ms: 195820\n  end_ms: 198120\n- text: So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  start_ms: 198120\n  end_ms: 200440\n- text: My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  start_ms: 200440\n  end_ms: 203240\n- text: Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  start_ms: 203240\n  end_ms: 206640\n- text: For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  start_ms: 206640\n  end_ms: 209200\n- text: They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  start_ms: 209200\n  end_ms: 212710\n- text: It seemed just like a mystery\n  start_ms: 212710\n  end_ms: 214120\n- text: Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  start_ms: 214120\n  end_ms: 217170\n- text: We been known what team he acknowledged\n  start_ms: 217170\n  end_ms: 219170\n- text: Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  start_ms: 219170\n  end_ms: 221050\n- text: But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  start_ms: 221050\n  end_ms: 224410\n- text: Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  start_ms: 224410\n  end_ms: 227160\n- text: Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  start_ms: 227160\n  end_ms: 229610\n- text: So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  start_ms: 229610\n  end_ms: 231970\n- text: He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  start_ms: 231970\n  end_ms: 234600\n- text: That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  start_ms: 234600\n  end_ms: 237360\n- text: But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 237360\n  end_ms: 239880\n- text: At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  start_ms: 239880\n  end_ms: 242400\n- text: I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 242400\n  end_ms: 244960\n- text: It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  start_ms: 244960\n  end_ms: 247560\n- text: We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 247560\n  end_ms: 249980\n- text: Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  start_ms: 249980\n  end_ms: 252390\n- text: Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 252390\n  end_ms: 255550\n- text: Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  start_ms: 255550\n  end_ms: 258400\n- text: Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  start_ms: 258400\n  end_ms: 261030\n- text: Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  start_ms: 261030\n  end_ms: 263640\n- text: Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  start_ms: 263640\n  end_ms: 266030\n- text: Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  start_ms: 266030\n  end_ms: 268590\n- text: Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  start_ms: 268590\n  end_ms: 270830\n- text: There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  start_ms: 270830\n  end_ms: 273510\n- text: It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  start_ms: 273510\n  end_ms: 276040\n- text: To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  start_ms: 276040\n  end_ms: 278670\n- text: I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  start_ms: 278670\n  end_ms: 281280\n- text: But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  start_ms: 281280\n  end_ms: 283870\n- text: If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  start_ms: 283870\n  end_ms: 286660\n- text: Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n  start_ms: 286660\n  end_ms: 289630\n- text: (Safety, safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 289630\n  end_ms: 294150\n- text: Safety (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 294150\n  end_ms: 298200\n- text: Huh, alright, safety\n  start_ms: 298200\n  end_ms: 300410\n- text: Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 300410\n  end_ms: 306060\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 306060\nplain: |\n  Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n  Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n  Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  I got a new number, delete that old one\n  By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n  It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  How time can rob us of our best days\n  As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n  Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  These processions are for the negligent\n  So I don't care to hang out\n  These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n  Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  It seemed just like a mystery\n  Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  We been known what team he acknowledged\n  Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n  (Safety, safety, safety)\n  Safety (Safety, safety)\n  Huh, alright, safety\n  Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n"},{"id":29660529,"name":"J. Cole - Safety (Official Audio)","trackName":"J. Cole - Safety (Official Audio)","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"The Fall-Off","duration":319.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Bae, can you go check on her real quick?\n\nAlright, safety (where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up)\n(Bae, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\nIt's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (safety)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safety)\nCain Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\nBonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (alright, safety)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\nYo, Jermaine, what's the word?\nI got a new numbеr, delete that old onе\nBy now, I'm sure you must've heard\n'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\nIt's nothin', though I did longer bids, this was a quick one\nI never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\nBeggin' you for big sums of dough\nWhen income's low, that ain't my style, it'll never be\n\nTo me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\nAnd plus, you did enough, wired me bands\nWay back when it was rough, last night\nWhen it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\nYou know how he be movin' like he in a rush\nTold him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\nWe sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\nI ain't even know that he smoke like that\n\nDrank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\nYo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\nBut bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n\nLotta these hos fallin' off, and it's real sad\nHow time can rob us of our best days\nAs we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg\nSaved for rainy days, but anyways, what's up?\nI thought about you, holla at me\nI would love to catch up, but I know you busy\nBut you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\nStay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up)\n(Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\nSafety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dawgs from)\n(Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\nAy, bro, what's goin' on?\nI feel no way when you don't respond, dog\nI know your heart, and I know our bond\nI know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\nBut still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\nI heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\nI know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\nCan't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\nWhen moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n\nAn uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\nThese processions are for the negligent\nSo I don't care to hang out\nThese younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\nOh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\nHere's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\nWhen she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\nIt's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n\nDog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\nFew things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\nAlthough I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\nMost of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\nLike, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\nWas about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\nAnd what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\nLet me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n(Safety, safety, safety) Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up (whoo)\n(Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\nSafety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up)\n(Calm down, underdogs, now we worldwide)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\nYo, hit me back when you get the chance\nSo many of our peers passed away through the years\nMy appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\nYo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\nFor doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\nThey say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\nIt seemed just like a mystery\nSome say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n\nWe been known what team he acknowledged\nSince we was kids, he lived in a closet\nBut that changed soon as he went to college\nUp there wilin' in the A&T, runnin' with fruity types\nDick in the booty types, tight pants\nSwitchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\nSo niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\nHe felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\nThat's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n\nBut years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (oh-oh-oh-oh)\nAt 2 a.m., with a lace front, dressin' in drag\nI shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (oh-oh)\nIt's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\nWe turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa- (oh-oh-oh-oh)\nNah, time's changed, I know that's wrong, now that we grown\nI wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (oh-oh)\nMan, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\nRest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n\nLast summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\nShit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\nBearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\nHere go the obituary, and just in case\nThere's a program attached that gives you the time and place\nIt's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\nTo that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n\nI know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\nBut I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\nIf you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\nFuneral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n(Safety, safety, safety)\nSafety (safety, safety)\nHuh, alright, safety\nDon't want to go back (safety, safety), time's up, too stressed to reply","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.43] Bae, can you go check on her real quick?\n[00:09.73] Alright, safety (where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up)\n[00:12.98] (Bae, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n[00:13.35] It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (safety)\n[00:15.89] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:17.94] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safety)\n[00:21.19] Cain Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n[00:23.37] Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (alright, safety)\n[00:25.98] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:28.08] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n[00:31.20] Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n[00:33.03] I got a new numbеr, delete that old onе\n[00:34.97] By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n[00:36.57] 'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n[00:38.86] It's nothin', though I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n[00:41.61] I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n[00:44.04] Beggin' you for big sums of dough\n[00:46.02] When income's low, that ain't my style, it'll never be\n[00:48.77] To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n[00:51.31] And plus, you did enough, wired me bands\n[00:53.15] Way back when it was rough, last night\n[00:55.18] When it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n[00:57.43] You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n[00:59.69] Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n[01:02.45] We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n[01:04.86] I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n[01:06.41] Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n[01:09.49] Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n[01:11.87] But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n[01:15.29] Lotta these hos fallin' off, and it's real sad\n[01:17.52] How time can rob us of our best days\n[01:19.70] As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg\n[01:22.12] Saved for rainy days, but anyways, what's up?\n[01:24.89] I thought about you, holla at me\n[01:26.36] I would love to catch up, but I know you busy\n[01:28.22] But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n[01:30.93] Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n[01:33.25] Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up)\n[01:35.60] (Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n[01:37.91] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\n[01:40.54] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n[01:43.20] Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dawgs from)\n[01:46.14] (Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n[01:48.22] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[01:50.57] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n[01:53.61] Ay, bro, what's goin' on?\n[01:55.13] I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n[01:56.92] I know your heart, and I know our bond\n[01:59.03] I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n[02:01.51] But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n[02:04.04] I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n[02:06.88] I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n[02:10.10] Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n[02:12.48] When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n[02:15.18] An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n[02:18.66] These processions are for the negligent\n[02:20.44] So I don't care to hang out\n[02:21.69] These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n[02:24.34] Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n[02:26.61] Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n[02:29.39] When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n[02:32.15] It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n[02:34.82] Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n[02:36.82] Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n[02:39.54] Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n[02:42.08] Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n[02:44.74] Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n[02:47.28] Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n[02:49.74] And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n[02:53.04] Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n[02:55.49] (Safety, safety, safety) Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up (whoo)\n[02:58.49] (Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n[03:00.55] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\n[03:03.34] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n[03:05.91] Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up)\n[03:08.63] (Calm down, underdogs, now we worldwide)\n[03:10.86] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[03:13.55] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n[03:16.05] Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n[03:17.90] So many of our peers passed away through the years\n[03:20.46] My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n[03:23.20] Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n[03:26.79] For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n[03:29.36] They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n[03:32.58] It seemed just like a mystery\n[03:34.37] Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n[03:37.32] We been known what team he acknowledged\n[03:38.92] Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n[03:40.77] But that changed soon as he went to college\n[03:42.66] Up there wilin' in the A&T, runnin' with fruity types\n[03:45.24] Dick in the booty types, tight pants\n[03:47.86] Switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n[03:49.51] So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n[03:51.96] He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n[03:54.38] That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n[03:56.96] But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[03:59.75] At 2 a.m., with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n[04:02.43] I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (oh-oh)\n[04:05.14] It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n[04:07.70] We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa- (oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[04:10.38] Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong, now that we grown\n[04:12.84] I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (oh-oh)\n[04:15.59] Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n[04:18.03] Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n[04:21.08] Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n[04:23.41] Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n[04:25.66] Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n[04:28.45] Here go the obituary, and just in case\n[04:31.07] There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n[04:33.62] It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n[04:35.95] To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n[04:38.53] I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n[04:41.02] But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n[04:43.54] If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n[04:46.20] Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n[04:50.71] (Safety, safety, safety)\n[04:53.91] Safety (safety, safety)\n[04:57.92] Huh, alright, safety\n[04:59.53] Don't want to go back (safety, safety), time's up, too stressed to reply\n[05:03.69] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: J. Cole - Safety (Official Audio)\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: The Fall-Off\n  duration_ms: 319000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Bae, can you go check on her real quick?\n  start_ms: 6430\n  end_ms: 9730\n- text: Alright, safety (where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 9730\n  end_ms: 12980\n- text: (Bae, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  start_ms: 12980\n  end_ms: 13350\n- text: It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (safety)\n  start_ms: 13350\n  end_ms: 15890\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 15890\n  end_ms: 17940\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safety)\n  start_ms: 17940\n  end_ms: 21190\n- text: Cain Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  start_ms: 21190\n  end_ms: 23370\n- text: Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (alright, safety)\n  start_ms: 23370\n  end_ms: 25980\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 25980\n  end_ms: 28080\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n  start_ms: 28080\n  end_ms: 31200\n- text: Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  start_ms: 31200\n  end_ms: 33030\n- text: I got a new numbеr, delete that old onе\n  start_ms: 33030\n  end_ms: 34970\n- text: By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  start_ms: 34970\n  end_ms: 36570\n- text: '''Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some'\n  start_ms: 36570\n  end_ms: 38860\n- text: It's nothin', though I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  start_ms: 38860\n  end_ms: 41610\n- text: I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  start_ms: 41610\n  end_ms: 44040\n- text: Beggin' you for big sums of dough\n  start_ms: 44040\n  end_ms: 46020\n- text: When income's low, that ain't my style, it'll never be\n  start_ms: 46020\n  end_ms: 48770\n- text: To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  start_ms: 48770\n  end_ms: 51310\n- text: And plus, you did enough, wired me bands\n  start_ms: 51310\n  end_ms: 53150\n- text: Way back when it was rough, last night\n  start_ms: 53150\n  end_ms: 55180\n- text: When it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  start_ms: 55180\n  end_ms: 57430\n- text: You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  start_ms: 57430\n  end_ms: 59690\n- text: Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  start_ms: 59690\n  end_ms: 62450\n- text: We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  start_ms: 62450\n  end_ms: 64860\n- text: I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  start_ms: 64860\n  end_ms: 66410\n- text: Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  start_ms: 66410\n  end_ms: 69490\n- text: Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  start_ms: 69490\n  end_ms: 71870\n- text: But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  start_ms: 71870\n  end_ms: 75290\n- text: Lotta these hos fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  start_ms: 75290\n  end_ms: 77520\n- text: How time can rob us of our best days\n  start_ms: 77520\n  end_ms: 79700\n- text: As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg\n  start_ms: 79700\n  end_ms: 82120\n- text: Saved for rainy days, but anyways, what's up?\n  start_ms: 82120\n  end_ms: 84890\n- text: I thought about you, holla at me\n  start_ms: 84890\n  end_ms: 86360\n- text: I would love to catch up, but I know you busy\n  start_ms: 86360\n  end_ms: 88220\n- text: But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  start_ms: 88220\n  end_ms: 90930\n- text: Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 90930\n  end_ms: 93250\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 93250\n  end_ms: 95600\n- text: (Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 95600\n  end_ms: 97910\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 97910\n  end_ms: 100540\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  start_ms: 100540\n  end_ms: 103200\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dawgs from)\n  start_ms: 103200\n  end_ms: 106140\n- text: (Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  start_ms: 106140\n  end_ms: 108220\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 108220\n  end_ms: 110570\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 110570\n  end_ms: 113610\n- text: Ay, bro, what's goin' on?\n  start_ms: 113610\n  end_ms: 115130\n- text: I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  start_ms: 115130\n  end_ms: 116920\n- text: I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  start_ms: 116920\n  end_ms: 119030\n- text: I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  start_ms: 119030\n  end_ms: 121510\n- text: But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  start_ms: 121510\n  end_ms: 124040\n- text: I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  start_ms: 124040\n  end_ms: 126880\n- text: I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  start_ms: 126880\n  end_ms: 130100\n- text: Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  start_ms: 130100\n  end_ms: 132480\n- text: When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  start_ms: 132480\n  end_ms: 135180\n- text: An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  start_ms: 135180\n  end_ms: 138660\n- text: These processions are for the negligent\n  start_ms: 138660\n  end_ms: 140440\n- text: So I don't care to hang out\n  start_ms: 140440\n  end_ms: 141690\n- text: These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  start_ms: 141690\n  end_ms: 144340\n- text: Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  start_ms: 144340\n  end_ms: 146610\n- text: Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  start_ms: 146610\n  end_ms: 149390\n- text: When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  start_ms: 149390\n  end_ms: 152150\n- text: It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  start_ms: 152150\n  end_ms: 154820\n- text: Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  start_ms: 154820\n  end_ms: 156820\n- text: Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  start_ms: 156820\n  end_ms: 159540\n- text: Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  start_ms: 159540\n  end_ms: 162080\n- text: Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  start_ms: 162080\n  end_ms: 164740\n- text: Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  start_ms: 164740\n  end_ms: 167280\n- text: Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  start_ms: 167280\n  end_ms: 169740\n- text: And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  start_ms: 169740\n  end_ms: 173040\n- text: Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 173040\n  end_ms: 175490\n- text: (Safety, safety, safety) Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up (whoo)\n  start_ms: 175490\n  end_ms: 178490\n- text: (Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 178490\n  end_ms: 180550\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 180550\n  end_ms: 183340\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 183340\n  end_ms: 185910\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up)\n  start_ms: 185910\n  end_ms: 188630\n- text: (Calm down, underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  start_ms: 188630\n  end_ms: 190860\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 190860\n  end_ms: 193550\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 193550\n  end_ms: 196050\n- text: Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  start_ms: 196050\n  end_ms: 197900\n- text: So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  start_ms: 197900\n  end_ms: 200460\n- text: My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  start_ms: 200460\n  end_ms: 203200\n- text: Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  start_ms: 203200\n  end_ms: 206790\n- text: For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  start_ms: 206790\n  end_ms: 209360\n- text: They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  start_ms: 209360\n  end_ms: 212580\n- text: It seemed just like a mystery\n  start_ms: 212580\n  end_ms: 214370\n- text: Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  start_ms: 214370\n  end_ms: 217320\n- text: We been known what team he acknowledged\n  start_ms: 217320\n  end_ms: 218920\n- text: Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  start_ms: 218920\n  end_ms: 220770\n- text: But that changed soon as he went to college\n  start_ms: 220770\n  end_ms: 222660\n- text: Up there wilin' in the A&T, runnin' with fruity types\n  start_ms: 222660\n  end_ms: 225240\n- text: Dick in the booty types, tight pants\n  start_ms: 225240\n  end_ms: 227860\n- text: Switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  start_ms: 227860\n  end_ms: 229510\n- text: So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  start_ms: 229510\n  end_ms: 231960\n- text: He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  start_ms: 231960\n  end_ms: 234380\n- text: That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  start_ms: 234380\n  end_ms: 236960\n- text: But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 236960\n  end_ms: 239750\n- text: At 2 a.m., with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  start_ms: 239750\n  end_ms: 242430\n- text: I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 242430\n  end_ms: 245140\n- text: It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  start_ms: 245140\n  end_ms: 247700\n- text: We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa- (oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 247700\n  end_ms: 250380\n- text: Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong, now that we grown\n  start_ms: 250380\n  end_ms: 252840\n- text: I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 252840\n  end_ms: 255590\n- text: Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  start_ms: 255590\n  end_ms: 258030\n- text: Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  start_ms: 258030\n  end_ms: 261080\n- text: Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  start_ms: 261080\n  end_ms: 263410\n- text: Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  start_ms: 263410\n  end_ms: 265660\n- text: Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  start_ms: 265660\n  end_ms: 268450\n- text: Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  start_ms: 268450\n  end_ms: 271070\n- text: There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  start_ms: 271070\n  end_ms: 273620\n- text: It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  start_ms: 273620\n  end_ms: 275950\n- text: To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  start_ms: 275950\n  end_ms: 278530\n- text: I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  start_ms: 278530\n  end_ms: 281020\n- text: But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  start_ms: 281020\n  end_ms: 283540\n- text: If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  start_ms: 283540\n  end_ms: 286200\n- text: Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n  start_ms: 286200\n  end_ms: 290710\n- text: (Safety, safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 290710\n  end_ms: 293910\n- text: Safety (safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 293910\n  end_ms: 297920\n- text: Huh, alright, safety\n  start_ms: 297920\n  end_ms: 299530\n- text: Don't want to go back (safety, safety), time's up, too stressed to reply\n  start_ms: 299530\n  end_ms: 303690\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 303690\nplain: |-\n  Bae, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n  Alright, safety (where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up)\n  (Bae, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (safety)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safety)\n  Cain Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (alright, safety)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n  Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  I got a new numbеr, delete that old onе\n  By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n  It's nothin', though I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  Beggin' you for big sums of dough\n  When income's low, that ain't my style, it'll never be\n\n  To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  And plus, you did enough, wired me bands\n  Way back when it was rough, last night\n  When it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n\n  Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n\n  Lotta these hos fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  How time can rob us of our best days\n  As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg\n  Saved for rainy days, but anyways, what's up?\n  I thought about you, holla at me\n  I would love to catch up, but I know you busy\n  But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up)\n  (Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dawgs from)\n  (Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n  Ay, bro, what's goin' on?\n  I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n\n  An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  These processions are for the negligent\n  So I don't care to hang out\n  These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n\n  Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n  (Safety, safety, safety) Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up (whoo)\n  (Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up)\n  (Calm down, underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n  Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  It seemed just like a mystery\n  Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n\n  We been known what team he acknowledged\n  Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  But that changed soon as he went to college\n  Up there wilin' in the A&T, runnin' with fruity types\n  Dick in the booty types, tight pants\n  Switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n\n  But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  At 2 a.m., with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (oh-oh)\n  It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa- (oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong, now that we grown\n  I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (oh-oh)\n  Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n\n  Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n\n  I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n  (Safety, safety, safety)\n  Safety (safety, safety)\n  Huh, alright, safety\n  Don't want to go back (safety, safety), time's up, too stressed to reply\n"},{"id":33293343,"name":"SAFETY","trackName":"SAFETY","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"BRAVO: The UK Hits 2026","duration":318.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\nAlright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\nIt's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\nKane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\nBonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\nYo, Jermaine, what's the word?\nI got a new number, delete that old one\nBy now, I'm sure you must've heard\n'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\nIt's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\nI never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\nBeggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\nThat ain't my style, it'll never be\nTo me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\nAnd plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\nLast night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\nYou know how he be movin' like he in a rush\nTold him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\nWe sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\nI ain't even know that he smoke like that\nDrank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\nYo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\nBut bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\nLotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\nHow time can rob us of our best days\nAs we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\nBut anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\nI would love to catch up, I know you busy\nBut you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\nStay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\nSafety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\nAyy, bo, what's goin' on?\nI feel no way when you don't respond, dog\nI know your heart, and I know our bond\nI know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\nBut still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\nI heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\nI know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\nCan't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\nWhen moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\nAn uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\nThese processions are for the negligent\nSo I don't care to hang out\nThese younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\nOh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\nHere's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\nWhen she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\nIt's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\nDog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\nFew things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\nAlthough I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\nMost of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\nLike, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\nWas about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\nAnd what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\nLet me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\nunderdogs, now we worldwide)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\nYo, hit me back when you get the chance\nSo many of our peers passed away through the years\nMy appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\nYo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\nFor doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\nThey say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\nIt seemed just like a mystery\nSome say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\nWe been known what team he acknowledged\nSince we was kids, he lived in a closet\nBut that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\nRunnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\nTight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\nSo niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\nHe felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\nThat's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\nBut years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nAt 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\nI shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\nIt's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\nWe turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nNah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\nNow that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\nMan, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\nRest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\nLast summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\nShit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\nBearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\nHere go the obituary, and just in case\nThere's a program attached that gives you the time and place\nIt's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\nTo that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\nI know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\nBut I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\nIf you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\nFuneral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n(Safety, safety, safety)\nSafety (Safety, safety)\nHuh, alright, safety\nDon't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.64] Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n[00:09.68] Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n[00:13.47] It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n[00:15.79] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:18.02] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n[00:20.63] Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n[00:23.59] Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n[00:26.23] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:28.42] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n[00:31.26] Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n[00:32.87] I got a new number, delete that old one\n[00:34.83] By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n[00:36.46] 'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n[00:38.86] It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n[00:41.54] I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n[00:43.75] Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n[00:46.82] That ain't my style, it'll never be\n[00:48.62] To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n[00:51.18] And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n[00:54.55] Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n[00:57.46] You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n[00:59.65] Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n[01:02.42] We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n[01:04.72] I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n[01:06.89] Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n[01:09.36] Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n[01:12.05] But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n[01:14.97] Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n[01:17.60] How time can rob us of our best days\n[01:19.53] As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n[01:23.57] But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n[01:26.52] I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n[01:28.36] But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n[01:30.77] Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n[01:33.65] Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n[01:37.68] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[01:40.68] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n[01:43.48] Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n[01:48.12] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[01:50.92] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n[01:53.96] Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n[01:55.44] I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n[01:57.28] I know your heart, and I know our bond\n[01:59.04] I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n[02:01.65] But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n[02:04.36] I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n[02:07.24] I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n[02:10.37] Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n[02:12.00] When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n[02:15.47] An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n[02:18.35] These processions are for the negligent\n[02:20.36] So I don't care to hang out\n[02:21.88] These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n[02:24.41] Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n[02:27.03] Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n[02:29.55] When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n[02:32.20] It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n[02:34.95] Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n[02:37.12] Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n[02:39.72] Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n[02:42.12] Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n[02:45.08] Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n[02:47.48] Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n[02:50.07] And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n[02:53.44] Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n[02:56.03] Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n[03:00.19] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[03:02.88] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n[03:05.00] Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n[03:10.43] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[03:13.42] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n[03:15.82] Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n[03:18.12] So many of our peers passed away through the years\n[03:20.44] My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n[03:23.24] Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n[03:26.64] For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n[03:29.20] They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n[03:32.71] It seemed just like a mystery\n[03:34.12] Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n[03:37.17] We been known what team he acknowledged\n[03:39.17] Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n[03:41.05] But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n[03:44.41] Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n[03:47.16] Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n[03:49.61] So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n[03:51.97] He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n[03:54.60] That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n[03:57.36] But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[03:59.88] At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n[04:02.40] I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n[04:04.96] It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n[04:07.56] We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[04:09.98] Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n[04:12.39] Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n[04:15.55] Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n[04:18.40] Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n[04:21.03] Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n[04:23.64] Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n[04:26.03] Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n[04:28.59] Here go the obituary, and just in case\n[04:30.83] There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n[04:33.51] It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n[04:36.04] To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n[04:38.67] I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n[04:41.28] But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n[04:43.87] If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n[04:46.66] Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n[04:49.63] (Safety, safety, safety)\n[04:54.15] Safety (Safety, safety)\n[04:58.20] Huh, alright, safety\n[05:00.41] Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n[05:06.06] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: SAFETY\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: 'BRAVO: The UK Hits 2026'\n  duration_ms: 318000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n  start_ms: 6640\n  end_ms: 9680\n- text: Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  start_ms: 9680\n  end_ms: 13470\n- text: It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  start_ms: 13470\n  end_ms: 15790\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 15790\n  end_ms: 18020\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 18020\n  end_ms: 20630\n- text: Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  start_ms: 20630\n  end_ms: 23590\n- text: Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 23590\n  end_ms: 26230\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 26230\n  end_ms: 28420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n  start_ms: 28420\n  end_ms: 31260\n- text: Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  start_ms: 31260\n  end_ms: 32870\n- text: I got a new number, delete that old one\n  start_ms: 32870\n  end_ms: 34830\n- text: By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  start_ms: 34830\n  end_ms: 36460\n- text: '''Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some'\n  start_ms: 36460\n  end_ms: 38860\n- text: It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  start_ms: 38860\n  end_ms: 41540\n- text: I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  start_ms: 41540\n  end_ms: 43750\n- text: Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  start_ms: 43750\n  end_ms: 46820\n- text: That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  start_ms: 46820\n  end_ms: 48620\n- text: To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  start_ms: 48620\n  end_ms: 51180\n- text: And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  start_ms: 51180\n  end_ms: 54550\n- text: Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  start_ms: 54550\n  end_ms: 57460\n- text: You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  start_ms: 57460\n  end_ms: 59650\n- text: Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  start_ms: 59650\n  end_ms: 62420\n- text: We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  start_ms: 62420\n  end_ms: 64720\n- text: I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  start_ms: 64720\n  end_ms: 66890\n- text: Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  start_ms: 66890\n  end_ms: 69360\n- text: Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  start_ms: 69360\n  end_ms: 72050\n- text: But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  start_ms: 72050\n  end_ms: 74970\n- text: Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  start_ms: 74970\n  end_ms: 77600\n- text: How time can rob us of our best days\n  start_ms: 77600\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 83570\n- text: But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  start_ms: 83570\n  end_ms: 86520\n- text: I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  start_ms: 86520\n  end_ms: 88360\n- text: But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  start_ms: 88360\n  end_ms: 90770\n- text: Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 90770\n  end_ms: 93650\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 93650\n  end_ms: 97680\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 97680\n  end_ms: 100680\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  start_ms: 100680\n  end_ms: 103480\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  start_ms: 103480\n  end_ms: 108120\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 108120\n  end_ms: 110920\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 110920\n  end_ms: 113960\n- text: Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  start_ms: 113960\n  end_ms: 115440\n- text: I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  start_ms: 115440\n  end_ms: 117280\n- text: I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  start_ms: 117280\n  end_ms: 119040\n- text: I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  start_ms: 119040\n  end_ms: 121650\n- text: But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  start_ms: 121650\n  end_ms: 124360\n- text: I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  start_ms: 124360\n  end_ms: 127240\n- text: I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  start_ms: 127240\n  end_ms: 130370\n- text: Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  start_ms: 130370\n  end_ms: 132000\n- text: When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  start_ms: 132000\n  end_ms: 135470\n- text: An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  start_ms: 135470\n  end_ms: 138350\n- text: These processions are for the negligent\n  start_ms: 138350\n  end_ms: 140360\n- text: So I don't care to hang out\n  start_ms: 140360\n  end_ms: 141880\n- text: These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  start_ms: 141880\n  end_ms: 144410\n- text: Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  start_ms: 144410\n  end_ms: 147030\n- text: Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  start_ms: 147030\n  end_ms: 149550\n- text: When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  start_ms: 149550\n  end_ms: 152200\n- text: It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  start_ms: 152200\n  end_ms: 154950\n- text: Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  start_ms: 154950\n  end_ms: 157120\n- text: Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  start_ms: 157120\n  end_ms: 159720\n- text: Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  start_ms: 159720\n  end_ms: 162120\n- text: Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  start_ms: 162120\n  end_ms: 165080\n- text: Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  start_ms: 165080\n  end_ms: 167480\n- text: Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  start_ms: 167480\n  end_ms: 170070\n- text: And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  start_ms: 170070\n  end_ms: 173440\n- text: Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 173440\n  end_ms: 176030\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 176030\n  end_ms: 180190\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 180190\n  end_ms: 182880\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 182880\n  end_ms: 185000\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  start_ms: 185000\n  end_ms: 190430\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 190430\n  end_ms: 193420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 193420\n  end_ms: 195820\n- text: Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  start_ms: 195820\n  end_ms: 198120\n- text: So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  start_ms: 198120\n  end_ms: 200440\n- text: My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  start_ms: 200440\n  end_ms: 203240\n- text: Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  start_ms: 203240\n  end_ms: 206640\n- text: For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  start_ms: 206640\n  end_ms: 209200\n- text: They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  start_ms: 209200\n  end_ms: 212710\n- text: It seemed just like a mystery\n  start_ms: 212710\n  end_ms: 214120\n- text: Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  start_ms: 214120\n  end_ms: 217170\n- text: We been known what team he acknowledged\n  start_ms: 217170\n  end_ms: 219170\n- text: Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  start_ms: 219170\n  end_ms: 221050\n- text: But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  start_ms: 221050\n  end_ms: 224410\n- text: Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  start_ms: 224410\n  end_ms: 227160\n- text: Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  start_ms: 227160\n  end_ms: 229610\n- text: So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  start_ms: 229610\n  end_ms: 231970\n- text: He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  start_ms: 231970\n  end_ms: 234600\n- text: That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  start_ms: 234600\n  end_ms: 237360\n- text: But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 237360\n  end_ms: 239880\n- text: At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  start_ms: 239880\n  end_ms: 242400\n- text: I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 242400\n  end_ms: 244960\n- text: It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  start_ms: 244960\n  end_ms: 247560\n- text: We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 247560\n  end_ms: 249980\n- text: Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  start_ms: 249980\n  end_ms: 252390\n- text: Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 252390\n  end_ms: 255550\n- text: Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  start_ms: 255550\n  end_ms: 258400\n- text: Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  start_ms: 258400\n  end_ms: 261030\n- text: Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  start_ms: 261030\n  end_ms: 263640\n- text: Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  start_ms: 263640\n  end_ms: 266030\n- text: Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  start_ms: 266030\n  end_ms: 268590\n- text: Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  start_ms: 268590\n  end_ms: 270830\n- text: There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  start_ms: 270830\n  end_ms: 273510\n- text: It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  start_ms: 273510\n  end_ms: 276040\n- text: To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  start_ms: 276040\n  end_ms: 278670\n- text: I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  start_ms: 278670\n  end_ms: 281280\n- text: But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  start_ms: 281280\n  end_ms: 283870\n- text: If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  start_ms: 283870\n  end_ms: 286660\n- text: Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n  start_ms: 286660\n  end_ms: 289630\n- text: (Safety, safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 289630\n  end_ms: 294150\n- text: Safety (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 294150\n  end_ms: 298200\n- text: Huh, alright, safety\n  start_ms: 298200\n  end_ms: 300410\n- text: Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 300410\n  end_ms: 306060\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 306060\nplain: |\n  Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n  Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n  Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  I got a new number, delete that old one\n  By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n  It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  How time can rob us of our best days\n  As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n  Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  These processions are for the negligent\n  So I don't care to hang out\n  These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n  Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  It seemed just like a mystery\n  Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  We been known what team he acknowledged\n  Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n  (Safety, safety, safety)\n  Safety (Safety, safety)\n  Huh, alright, safety\n  Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n"},{"id":32785490,"name":"SAFETY","trackName":"SAFETY","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"The Fall-Off","duration":315.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\nAlright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\nIt's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\nKane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\nBonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\nYo, Jermaine, what's the word?\nI got a new number, delete that old one\nBy now, I'm sure you must've heard\n'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\nIt's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\nI never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\nBeggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\nThat ain't my style, it'll never be\nTo me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\nAnd plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\nLast night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\nYou know how he be movin' like he in a rush\nTold him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\nWe sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\nI ain't even know that he smoke like that\nDrank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\nYo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\nBut bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\nLotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\nHow time can rob us of our best days\nAs we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\nBut anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\nI would love to catch up, I know you busy\nBut you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\nStay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\nSafety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\nAyy, bo, what's goin' on?\nI feel no way when you don't respond, dog\nI know your heart, and I know our bond\nI know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\nBut still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\nI heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\nI know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\nCan't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\nWhen moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\nAn uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\nThese processions are for the negligent\nSo I don't care to hang out\nThese younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\nOh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\nHere's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\nWhen she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\nIt's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\nDog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\nFew things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\nAlthough I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\nMost of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\nLike, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\nWas about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\nAnd what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\nLet me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\nunderdogs, now we worldwide)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\nYo, hit me back when you get the chance\nSo many of our peers passed away through the years\nMy appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\nYo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\nFor doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\nThey say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\nIt seemed just like a mystery\nSome say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\nWe been known what team he acknowledged\nSince we was kids, he lived in a closet\nBut that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\nRunnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\nTight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\nSo niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\nHe felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\nThat's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\nBut years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nAt 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\nI shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\nIt's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\nWe turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nNah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\nNow that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\nMan, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\nRest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\nLast summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\nShit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\nBearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\nHere go the obituary, and just in case\nThere's a program attached that gives you the time and place\nIt's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\nTo that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\nI know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\nBut I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\nIf you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\nFuneral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n(Safety, safety, safety)\nSafety (Safety, safety)\nHuh, alright, safety\nDon't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.64] Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n[00:09.68] Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n[00:13.47] It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n[00:15.79] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:18.02] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n[00:20.63] Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n[00:23.59] Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n[00:26.23] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:28.42] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n[00:31.26] Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n[00:32.87] I got a new number, delete that old one\n[00:34.83] By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n[00:36.46] 'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n[00:38.86] It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n[00:41.54] I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n[00:43.75] Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n[00:46.82] That ain't my style, it'll never be\n[00:48.62] To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n[00:51.18] And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n[00:54.55] Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n[00:57.46] You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n[00:59.65] Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n[01:02.42] We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n[01:04.72] I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n[01:06.89] Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n[01:09.36] Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n[01:12.05] But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n[01:14.97] Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n[01:17.60] How time can rob us of our best days\n[01:19.53] As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n[01:23.57] But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n[01:26.52] I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n[01:28.36] But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n[01:30.77] Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n[01:33.65] Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n[01:37.68] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[01:40.68] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n[01:43.48] Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n[01:48.12] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[01:50.92] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n[01:53.96] Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n[01:55.44] I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n[01:57.28] I know your heart, and I know our bond\n[01:59.04] I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n[02:01.65] But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n[02:04.36] I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n[02:07.24] I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n[02:10.37] Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n[02:12.00] When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n[02:15.47] An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n[02:18.35] These processions are for the negligent\n[02:20.36] So I don't care to hang out\n[02:21.88] These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n[02:24.41] Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n[02:27.03] Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n[02:29.55] When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n[02:32.20] It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n[02:34.95] Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n[02:37.12] Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n[02:39.72] Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n[02:42.12] Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n[02:45.08] Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n[02:47.48] Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n[02:50.07] And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n[02:53.44] Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n[02:56.03] Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n[03:00.19] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[03:02.88] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n[03:05.00] Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n[03:10.43] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[03:13.42] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n[03:15.82] Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n[03:18.12] So many of our peers passed away through the years\n[03:20.44] My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n[03:23.24] Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n[03:26.64] For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n[03:29.20] They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n[03:32.71] It seemed just like a mystery\n[03:34.12] Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n[03:37.17] We been known what team he acknowledged\n[03:39.17] Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n[03:41.05] But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n[03:44.41] Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n[03:47.16] Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n[03:49.61] So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n[03:51.97] He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n[03:54.60] That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n[03:57.36] But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[03:59.88] At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n[04:02.40] I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n[04:04.96] It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n[04:07.56] We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[04:09.98] Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n[04:12.39] Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n[04:15.55] Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n[04:18.40] Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n[04:21.03] Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n[04:23.64] Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n[04:26.03] Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n[04:28.59] Here go the obituary, and just in case\n[04:30.83] There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n[04:33.51] It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n[04:36.04] To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n[04:38.67] I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n[04:41.28] But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n[04:43.87] If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n[04:46.66] Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n[04:49.63] (Safety, safety, safety)\n[04:54.15] Safety (Safety, safety)\n[04:58.20] Huh, alright, safety\n[05:00.41] Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n[05:06.06] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: SAFETY\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: The Fall-Off\n  duration_ms: 315000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n  start_ms: 6640\n  end_ms: 9680\n- text: Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  start_ms: 9680\n  end_ms: 13470\n- text: It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  start_ms: 13470\n  end_ms: 15790\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 15790\n  end_ms: 18020\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 18020\n  end_ms: 20630\n- text: Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  start_ms: 20630\n  end_ms: 23590\n- text: Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 23590\n  end_ms: 26230\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 26230\n  end_ms: 28420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n  start_ms: 28420\n  end_ms: 31260\n- text: Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  start_ms: 31260\n  end_ms: 32870\n- text: I got a new number, delete that old one\n  start_ms: 32870\n  end_ms: 34830\n- text: By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  start_ms: 34830\n  end_ms: 36460\n- text: '''Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some'\n  start_ms: 36460\n  end_ms: 38860\n- text: It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  start_ms: 38860\n  end_ms: 41540\n- text: I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  start_ms: 41540\n  end_ms: 43750\n- text: Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  start_ms: 43750\n  end_ms: 46820\n- text: That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  start_ms: 46820\n  end_ms: 48620\n- text: To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  start_ms: 48620\n  end_ms: 51180\n- text: And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  start_ms: 51180\n  end_ms: 54550\n- text: Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  start_ms: 54550\n  end_ms: 57460\n- text: You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  start_ms: 57460\n  end_ms: 59650\n- text: Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  start_ms: 59650\n  end_ms: 62420\n- text: We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  start_ms: 62420\n  end_ms: 64720\n- text: I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  start_ms: 64720\n  end_ms: 66890\n- text: Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  start_ms: 66890\n  end_ms: 69360\n- text: Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  start_ms: 69360\n  end_ms: 72050\n- text: But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  start_ms: 72050\n  end_ms: 74970\n- text: Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  start_ms: 74970\n  end_ms: 77600\n- text: How time can rob us of our best days\n  start_ms: 77600\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 83570\n- text: But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  start_ms: 83570\n  end_ms: 86520\n- text: I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  start_ms: 86520\n  end_ms: 88360\n- text: But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  start_ms: 88360\n  end_ms: 90770\n- text: Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 90770\n  end_ms: 93650\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 93650\n  end_ms: 97680\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 97680\n  end_ms: 100680\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  start_ms: 100680\n  end_ms: 103480\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  start_ms: 103480\n  end_ms: 108120\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 108120\n  end_ms: 110920\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 110920\n  end_ms: 113960\n- text: Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  start_ms: 113960\n  end_ms: 115440\n- text: I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  start_ms: 115440\n  end_ms: 117280\n- text: I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  start_ms: 117280\n  end_ms: 119040\n- text: I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  start_ms: 119040\n  end_ms: 121650\n- text: But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  start_ms: 121650\n  end_ms: 124360\n- text: I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  start_ms: 124360\n  end_ms: 127240\n- text: I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  start_ms: 127240\n  end_ms: 130370\n- text: Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  start_ms: 130370\n  end_ms: 132000\n- text: When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  start_ms: 132000\n  end_ms: 135470\n- text: An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  start_ms: 135470\n  end_ms: 138350\n- text: These processions are for the negligent\n  start_ms: 138350\n  end_ms: 140360\n- text: So I don't care to hang out\n  start_ms: 140360\n  end_ms: 141880\n- text: These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  start_ms: 141880\n  end_ms: 144410\n- text: Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  start_ms: 144410\n  end_ms: 147030\n- text: Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  start_ms: 147030\n  end_ms: 149550\n- text: When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  start_ms: 149550\n  end_ms: 152200\n- text: It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  start_ms: 152200\n  end_ms: 154950\n- text: Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  start_ms: 154950\n  end_ms: 157120\n- text: Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  start_ms: 157120\n  end_ms: 159720\n- text: Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  start_ms: 159720\n  end_ms: 162120\n- text: Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  start_ms: 162120\n  end_ms: 165080\n- text: Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  start_ms: 165080\n  end_ms: 167480\n- text: Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  start_ms: 167480\n  end_ms: 170070\n- text: And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  start_ms: 170070\n  end_ms: 173440\n- text: Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 173440\n  end_ms: 176030\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 176030\n  end_ms: 180190\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 180190\n  end_ms: 182880\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 182880\n  end_ms: 185000\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  start_ms: 185000\n  end_ms: 190430\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 190430\n  end_ms: 193420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 193420\n  end_ms: 195820\n- text: Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  start_ms: 195820\n  end_ms: 198120\n- text: So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  start_ms: 198120\n  end_ms: 200440\n- text: My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  start_ms: 200440\n  end_ms: 203240\n- text: Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  start_ms: 203240\n  end_ms: 206640\n- text: For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  start_ms: 206640\n  end_ms: 209200\n- text: They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  start_ms: 209200\n  end_ms: 212710\n- text: It seemed just like a mystery\n  start_ms: 212710\n  end_ms: 214120\n- text: Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  start_ms: 214120\n  end_ms: 217170\n- text: We been known what team he acknowledged\n  start_ms: 217170\n  end_ms: 219170\n- text: Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  start_ms: 219170\n  end_ms: 221050\n- text: But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  start_ms: 221050\n  end_ms: 224410\n- text: Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  start_ms: 224410\n  end_ms: 227160\n- text: Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  start_ms: 227160\n  end_ms: 229610\n- text: So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  start_ms: 229610\n  end_ms: 231970\n- text: He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  start_ms: 231970\n  end_ms: 234600\n- text: That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  start_ms: 234600\n  end_ms: 237360\n- text: But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 237360\n  end_ms: 239880\n- text: At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  start_ms: 239880\n  end_ms: 242400\n- text: I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 242400\n  end_ms: 244960\n- text: It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  start_ms: 244960\n  end_ms: 247560\n- text: We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 247560\n  end_ms: 249980\n- text: Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  start_ms: 249980\n  end_ms: 252390\n- text: Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 252390\n  end_ms: 255550\n- text: Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  start_ms: 255550\n  end_ms: 258400\n- text: Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  start_ms: 258400\n  end_ms: 261030\n- text: Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  start_ms: 261030\n  end_ms: 263640\n- text: Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  start_ms: 263640\n  end_ms: 266030\n- text: Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  start_ms: 266030\n  end_ms: 268590\n- text: Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  start_ms: 268590\n  end_ms: 270830\n- text: There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  start_ms: 270830\n  end_ms: 273510\n- text: It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  start_ms: 273510\n  end_ms: 276040\n- text: To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  start_ms: 276040\n  end_ms: 278670\n- text: I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  start_ms: 278670\n  end_ms: 281280\n- text: But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  start_ms: 281280\n  end_ms: 283870\n- text: If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  start_ms: 283870\n  end_ms: 286660\n- text: Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n  start_ms: 286660\n  end_ms: 289630\n- text: (Safety, safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 289630\n  end_ms: 294150\n- text: Safety (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 294150\n  end_ms: 298200\n- text: Huh, alright, safety\n  start_ms: 298200\n  end_ms: 300410\n- text: Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 300410\n  end_ms: 306060\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 306060\nplain: |\n  Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n  Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n  Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  I got a new number, delete that old one\n  By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n  It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  How time can rob us of our best days\n  As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n  Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  These processions are for the negligent\n  So I don't care to hang out\n  These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n  Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  It seemed just like a mystery\n  Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  We been known what team he acknowledged\n  Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n  (Safety, safety, safety)\n  Safety (Safety, safety)\n  Huh, alright, safety\n  Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n"},{"id":31135101,"name":"Safety","trackName":"Safety","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"Unknown","duration":319.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\nAlright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\nIt's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\nKane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\nBonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\nYo, Jermaine, what's the word?\nI got a new number, delete that old one\nBy now, I'm sure you must've heard\n'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\nIt's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\nI never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\nBeggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\nThat ain't my style, it'll never be\nTo me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\nAnd plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\nLast night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\nYou know how he be movin' like he in a rush\nTold him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\nWe sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\nI ain't even know that he smoke like that\nDrank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\nYo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\nBut bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\nLotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\nHow time can rob us of our best days\nAs we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\nBut anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\nI would love to catch up, I know you busy\nBut you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\nStay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\nSafety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\nAyy, bo, what's goin' on?\nI feel no way when you don't respond, dog\nI know your heart, and I know our bond\nI know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\nBut still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\nI heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\nI know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\nCan't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\nWhen moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\nAn uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\nThese processions are for the negligent\nSo I don't care to hang out\nThese younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\nOh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\nHere's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\nWhen she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\nIt's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\nDog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\nFew things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\nAlthough I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\nMost of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\nLike, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\nWas about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\nAnd what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\nLet me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\nunderdogs, now we worldwide)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\nYo, hit me back when you get the chance\nSo many of our peers passed away through the years\nMy appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\nYo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\nFor doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\nThey say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\nIt seemed just like a mystery\nSome say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\nWe been known what team he acknowledged\nSince we was kids, he lived in a closet\nBut that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\nRunnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\nTight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\nSo niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\nHe felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\nThat's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\nBut years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nAt 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\nI shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\nIt's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\nWe turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nNah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\nNow that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\nMan, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\nRest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\nLast summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\nShit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\nBearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\nHere go the obituary, and just in case\nThere's a program attached that gives you the time and place\nIt's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\nTo that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\nI know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\nBut I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\nIf you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\nFuneral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n(Safety, safety, safety)\nSafety (Safety, safety)\nHuh, alright, safety\nDon't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.64] Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n[00:09.68] Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n[00:13.47] It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n[00:15.79] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:18.02] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n[00:20.63] Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n[00:23.59] Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n[00:26.23] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:28.42] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n[00:31.26] Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n[00:32.87] I got a new number, delete that old one\n[00:34.83] By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n[00:36.46] 'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n[00:38.86] It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n[00:41.54] I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n[00:43.75] Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n[00:46.82] That ain't my style, it'll never be\n[00:48.62] To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n[00:51.18] And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n[00:54.55] Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n[00:57.46] You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n[00:59.65] Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n[01:02.42] We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n[01:04.72] I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n[01:06.89] Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n[01:09.36] Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n[01:12.05] But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n[01:14.97] Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n[01:17.60] How time can rob us of our best days\n[01:19.53] As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n[01:23.57] But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n[01:26.52] I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n[01:28.36] But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n[01:30.77] Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n[01:33.65] Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n[01:37.68] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[01:40.68] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n[01:43.48] Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n[01:48.12] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[01:50.92] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n[01:53.96] Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n[01:55.44] I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n[01:57.28] I know your heart, and I know our bond\n[01:59.04] I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n[02:01.65] But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n[02:04.36] I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n[02:07.24] I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n[02:10.37] Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n[02:12.00] When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n[02:15.47] An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n[02:18.35] These processions are for the negligent\n[02:20.36] So I don't care to hang out\n[02:21.88] These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n[02:24.41] Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n[02:27.03] Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n[02:29.55] When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n[02:32.20] It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n[02:34.95] Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n[02:37.12] Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n[02:39.72] Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n[02:42.12] Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n[02:45.08] Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n[02:47.48] Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n[02:50.07] And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n[02:53.44] Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n[02:56.03] Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n[03:00.19] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[03:02.88] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n[03:05.00] Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n[03:10.43] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[03:13.42] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n[03:15.82] Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n[03:18.12] So many of our peers passed away through the years\n[03:20.44] My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n[03:23.24] Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n[03:26.64] For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n[03:29.20] They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n[03:32.71] It seemed just like a mystery\n[03:34.12] Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n[03:37.17] We been known what team he acknowledged\n[03:39.17] Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n[03:41.05] But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n[03:44.41] Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n[03:47.16] Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n[03:49.61] So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n[03:51.97] He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n[03:54.60] That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n[03:57.36] But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[03:59.88] At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n[04:02.40] I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n[04:04.96] It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n[04:07.56] We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[04:09.98] Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n[04:12.39] Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n[04:15.55] Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n[04:18.40] Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n[04:21.03] Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n[04:23.64] Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n[04:26.03] Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n[04:28.59] Here go the obituary, and just in case\n[04:30.83] There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n[04:33.51] It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n[04:36.04] To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n[04:38.67] I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n[04:41.28] But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n[04:43.87] If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n[04:46.66] Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n[04:49.63] (Safety, safety, safety)\n[04:54.15] Safety (Safety, safety)\n[04:58.20] Huh, alright, safety\n[05:00.41] Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n[05:06.06] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Safety\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: Unknown\n  duration_ms: 319000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n  start_ms: 6640\n  end_ms: 9680\n- text: Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  start_ms: 9680\n  end_ms: 13470\n- text: It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  start_ms: 13470\n  end_ms: 15790\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 15790\n  end_ms: 18020\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 18020\n  end_ms: 20630\n- text: Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  start_ms: 20630\n  end_ms: 23590\n- text: Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 23590\n  end_ms: 26230\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 26230\n  end_ms: 28420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n  start_ms: 28420\n  end_ms: 31260\n- text: Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  start_ms: 31260\n  end_ms: 32870\n- text: I got a new number, delete that old one\n  start_ms: 32870\n  end_ms: 34830\n- text: By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  start_ms: 34830\n  end_ms: 36460\n- text: '''Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some'\n  start_ms: 36460\n  end_ms: 38860\n- text: It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  start_ms: 38860\n  end_ms: 41540\n- text: I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  start_ms: 41540\n  end_ms: 43750\n- text: Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  start_ms: 43750\n  end_ms: 46820\n- text: That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  start_ms: 46820\n  end_ms: 48620\n- text: To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  start_ms: 48620\n  end_ms: 51180\n- text: And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  start_ms: 51180\n  end_ms: 54550\n- text: Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  start_ms: 54550\n  end_ms: 57460\n- text: You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  start_ms: 57460\n  end_ms: 59650\n- text: Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  start_ms: 59650\n  end_ms: 62420\n- text: We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  start_ms: 62420\n  end_ms: 64720\n- text: I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  start_ms: 64720\n  end_ms: 66890\n- text: Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  start_ms: 66890\n  end_ms: 69360\n- text: Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  start_ms: 69360\n  end_ms: 72050\n- text: But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  start_ms: 72050\n  end_ms: 74970\n- text: Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  start_ms: 74970\n  end_ms: 77600\n- text: How time can rob us of our best days\n  start_ms: 77600\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 83570\n- text: But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  start_ms: 83570\n  end_ms: 86520\n- text: I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  start_ms: 86520\n  end_ms: 88360\n- text: But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  start_ms: 88360\n  end_ms: 90770\n- text: Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 90770\n  end_ms: 93650\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 93650\n  end_ms: 97680\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 97680\n  end_ms: 100680\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  start_ms: 100680\n  end_ms: 103480\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  start_ms: 103480\n  end_ms: 108120\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 108120\n  end_ms: 110920\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 110920\n  end_ms: 113960\n- text: Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  start_ms: 113960\n  end_ms: 115440\n- text: I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  start_ms: 115440\n  end_ms: 117280\n- text: I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  start_ms: 117280\n  end_ms: 119040\n- text: I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  start_ms: 119040\n  end_ms: 121650\n- text: But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  start_ms: 121650\n  end_ms: 124360\n- text: I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  start_ms: 124360\n  end_ms: 127240\n- text: I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  start_ms: 127240\n  end_ms: 130370\n- text: Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  start_ms: 130370\n  end_ms: 132000\n- text: When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  start_ms: 132000\n  end_ms: 135470\n- text: An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  start_ms: 135470\n  end_ms: 138350\n- text: These processions are for the negligent\n  start_ms: 138350\n  end_ms: 140360\n- text: So I don't care to hang out\n  start_ms: 140360\n  end_ms: 141880\n- text: These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  start_ms: 141880\n  end_ms: 144410\n- text: Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  start_ms: 144410\n  end_ms: 147030\n- text: Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  start_ms: 147030\n  end_ms: 149550\n- text: When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  start_ms: 149550\n  end_ms: 152200\n- text: It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  start_ms: 152200\n  end_ms: 154950\n- text: Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  start_ms: 154950\n  end_ms: 157120\n- text: Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  start_ms: 157120\n  end_ms: 159720\n- text: Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  start_ms: 159720\n  end_ms: 162120\n- text: Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  start_ms: 162120\n  end_ms: 165080\n- text: Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  start_ms: 165080\n  end_ms: 167480\n- text: Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  start_ms: 167480\n  end_ms: 170070\n- text: And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  start_ms: 170070\n  end_ms: 173440\n- text: Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 173440\n  end_ms: 176030\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 176030\n  end_ms: 180190\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 180190\n  end_ms: 182880\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 182880\n  end_ms: 185000\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  start_ms: 185000\n  end_ms: 190430\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 190430\n  end_ms: 193420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 193420\n  end_ms: 195820\n- text: Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  start_ms: 195820\n  end_ms: 198120\n- text: So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  start_ms: 198120\n  end_ms: 200440\n- text: My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  start_ms: 200440\n  end_ms: 203240\n- text: Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  start_ms: 203240\n  end_ms: 206640\n- text: For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  start_ms: 206640\n  end_ms: 209200\n- text: They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  start_ms: 209200\n  end_ms: 212710\n- text: It seemed just like a mystery\n  start_ms: 212710\n  end_ms: 214120\n- text: Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  start_ms: 214120\n  end_ms: 217170\n- text: We been known what team he acknowledged\n  start_ms: 217170\n  end_ms: 219170\n- text: Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  start_ms: 219170\n  end_ms: 221050\n- text: But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  start_ms: 221050\n  end_ms: 224410\n- text: Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  start_ms: 224410\n  end_ms: 227160\n- text: Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  start_ms: 227160\n  end_ms: 229610\n- text: So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  start_ms: 229610\n  end_ms: 231970\n- text: He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  start_ms: 231970\n  end_ms: 234600\n- text: That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  start_ms: 234600\n  end_ms: 237360\n- text: But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 237360\n  end_ms: 239880\n- text: At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  start_ms: 239880\n  end_ms: 242400\n- text: I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 242400\n  end_ms: 244960\n- text: It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  start_ms: 244960\n  end_ms: 247560\n- text: We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 247560\n  end_ms: 249980\n- text: Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  start_ms: 249980\n  end_ms: 252390\n- text: Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 252390\n  end_ms: 255550\n- text: Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  start_ms: 255550\n  end_ms: 258400\n- text: Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  start_ms: 258400\n  end_ms: 261030\n- text: Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  start_ms: 261030\n  end_ms: 263640\n- text: Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  start_ms: 263640\n  end_ms: 266030\n- text: Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  start_ms: 266030\n  end_ms: 268590\n- text: Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  start_ms: 268590\n  end_ms: 270830\n- text: There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  start_ms: 270830\n  end_ms: 273510\n- text: It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  start_ms: 273510\n  end_ms: 276040\n- text: To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  start_ms: 276040\n  end_ms: 278670\n- text: I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  start_ms: 278670\n  end_ms: 281280\n- text: But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  start_ms: 281280\n  end_ms: 283870\n- text: If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  start_ms: 283870\n  end_ms: 286660\n- text: Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n  start_ms: 286660\n  end_ms: 289630\n- text: (Safety, safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 289630\n  end_ms: 294150\n- text: Safety (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 294150\n  end_ms: 298200\n- text: Huh, alright, safety\n  start_ms: 298200\n  end_ms: 300410\n- text: Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 300410\n  end_ms: 306060\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 306060\nplain: |\n  Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n  Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n  Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  I got a new number, delete that old one\n  By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n  It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  How time can rob us of our best days\n  As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n  Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  These processions are for the negligent\n  So I don't care to hang out\n  These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n  Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  It seemed just like a mystery\n  Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  We been known what team he acknowledged\n  Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n  (Safety, safety, safety)\n  Safety (Safety, safety)\n  Huh, alright, safety\n  Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n"},{"id":33407370,"name":"SAFETY","trackName":"SAFETY","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"The Fall‐Off","duration":318.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\nAlright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\nIt's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\nKane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\nBonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\nYo, Jermaine, what's the word?\nI got a new number, delete that old one\nBy now, I'm sure you must've heard\n'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\nIt's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\nI never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\nBeggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\nThat ain't my style, it'll never be\nTo me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\nAnd plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\nLast night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\nYou know how he be movin' like he in a rush\nTold him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\nWe sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\nI ain't even know that he smoke like that\nDrank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\nYo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\nBut bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\nLotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\nHow time can rob us of our best days\nAs we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\nBut anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\nI would love to catch up, I know you busy\nBut you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\nStay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\nSafety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\nAyy, bo, what's goin' on?\nI feel no way when you don't respond, dog\nI know your heart, and I know our bond\nI know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\nBut still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\nI heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\nI know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\nCan't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\nWhen moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\nAn uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\nThese processions are for the negligent\nSo I don't care to hang out\nThese younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\nOh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\nHere's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\nWhen she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\nIt's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\nDog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\nFew things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\nAlthough I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\nMost of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\nLike, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\nWas about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\nAnd what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\nLet me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\nunderdogs, now we worldwide)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\nYo, hit me back when you get the chance\nSo many of our peers passed away through the years\nMy appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\nYo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\nFor doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\nThey say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\nIt seemed just like a mystery\nSome say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\nWe been known what team he acknowledged\nSince we was kids, he lived in a closet\nBut that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\nRunnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\nTight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\nSo niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\nHe felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\nThat's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\nBut years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nAt 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\nI shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\nIt's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\nWe turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nNah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\nNow that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\nMan, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\nRest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\nLast summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\nShit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\nBearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\nHere go the obituary, and just in case\nThere's a program attached that gives you the time and place\nIt's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\nTo that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\nI know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\nBut I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\nIf you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\nFuneral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n(Safety, safety, safety)\nSafety (Safety, safety)\nHuh, alright, safety\nDon't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.64] Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n[00:09.68] Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n[00:13.47] It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n[00:15.79] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:18.02] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n[00:20.63] Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n[00:23.59] Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n[00:26.23] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:28.42] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n[00:31.26] Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n[00:32.87] I got a new number, delete that old one\n[00:34.83] By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n[00:36.46] 'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n[00:38.86] It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n[00:41.54] I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n[00:43.75] Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n[00:46.82] That ain't my style, it'll never be\n[00:48.62] To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n[00:51.18] And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n[00:54.55] Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n[00:57.46] You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n[00:59.65] Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n[01:02.42] We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n[01:04.72] I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n[01:06.89] Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n[01:09.36] Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n[01:12.05] But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n[01:14.97] Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n[01:17.60] How time can rob us of our best days\n[01:19.53] As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n[01:23.57] But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n[01:26.52] I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n[01:28.36] But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n[01:30.77] Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n[01:33.65] Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n[01:37.68] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[01:40.68] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n[01:43.48] Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n[01:48.12] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[01:50.92] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n[01:53.96] Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n[01:55.44] I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n[01:57.28] I know your heart, and I know our bond\n[01:59.04] I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n[02:01.65] But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n[02:04.36] I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n[02:07.24] I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n[02:10.37] Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n[02:12.00] When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n[02:15.47] An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n[02:18.35] These processions are for the negligent\n[02:20.36] So I don't care to hang out\n[02:21.88] These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n[02:24.41] Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n[02:27.03] Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n[02:29.55] When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n[02:32.20] It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n[02:34.95] Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n[02:37.12] Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n[02:39.72] Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n[02:42.12] Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n[02:45.08] Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n[02:47.48] Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n[02:50.07] And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n[02:53.44] Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n[02:56.03] Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n[03:00.19] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[03:02.88] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n[03:05.00] Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n[03:10.43] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[03:13.42] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n[03:15.82] Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n[03:18.12] So many of our peers passed away through the years\n[03:20.44] My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n[03:23.24] Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n[03:26.64] For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n[03:29.20] They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n[03:32.71] It seemed just like a mystery\n[03:34.12] Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n[03:37.17] We been known what team he acknowledged\n[03:39.17] Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n[03:41.05] But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n[03:44.41] Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n[03:47.16] Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n[03:49.61] So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n[03:51.97] He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n[03:54.60] That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n[03:57.36] But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[03:59.88] At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n[04:02.40] I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n[04:04.96] It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n[04:07.56] We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[04:09.98] Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n[04:12.39] Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n[04:15.55] Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n[04:18.40] Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n[04:21.03] Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n[04:23.64] Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n[04:26.03] Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n[04:28.59] Here go the obituary, and just in case\n[04:30.83] There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n[04:33.51] It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n[04:36.04] To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n[04:38.67] I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n[04:41.28] But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n[04:43.87] If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n[04:46.66] Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n[04:49.63] (Safety, safety, safety)\n[04:54.15] Safety (Safety, safety)\n[04:58.20] Huh, alright, safety\n[05:00.41] Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n[05:06.06] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: SAFETY\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: The Fall‐Off\n  duration_ms: 318000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n  start_ms: 6640\n  end_ms: 9680\n- text: Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  start_ms: 9680\n  end_ms: 13470\n- text: It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  start_ms: 13470\n  end_ms: 15790\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 15790\n  end_ms: 18020\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 18020\n  end_ms: 20630\n- text: Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  start_ms: 20630\n  end_ms: 23590\n- text: Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 23590\n  end_ms: 26230\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 26230\n  end_ms: 28420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n  start_ms: 28420\n  end_ms: 31260\n- text: Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  start_ms: 31260\n  end_ms: 32870\n- text: I got a new number, delete that old one\n  start_ms: 32870\n  end_ms: 34830\n- text: By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  start_ms: 34830\n  end_ms: 36460\n- text: '''Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some'\n  start_ms: 36460\n  end_ms: 38860\n- text: It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  start_ms: 38860\n  end_ms: 41540\n- text: I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  start_ms: 41540\n  end_ms: 43750\n- text: Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  start_ms: 43750\n  end_ms: 46820\n- text: That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  start_ms: 46820\n  end_ms: 48620\n- text: To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  start_ms: 48620\n  end_ms: 51180\n- text: And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  start_ms: 51180\n  end_ms: 54550\n- text: Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  start_ms: 54550\n  end_ms: 57460\n- text: You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  start_ms: 57460\n  end_ms: 59650\n- text: Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  start_ms: 59650\n  end_ms: 62420\n- text: We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  start_ms: 62420\n  end_ms: 64720\n- text: I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  start_ms: 64720\n  end_ms: 66890\n- text: Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  start_ms: 66890\n  end_ms: 69360\n- text: Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  start_ms: 69360\n  end_ms: 72050\n- text: But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  start_ms: 72050\n  end_ms: 74970\n- text: Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  start_ms: 74970\n  end_ms: 77600\n- text: How time can rob us of our best days\n  start_ms: 77600\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 83570\n- text: But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  start_ms: 83570\n  end_ms: 86520\n- text: I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  start_ms: 86520\n  end_ms: 88360\n- text: But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  start_ms: 88360\n  end_ms: 90770\n- text: Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 90770\n  end_ms: 93650\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 93650\n  end_ms: 97680\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 97680\n  end_ms: 100680\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  start_ms: 100680\n  end_ms: 103480\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  start_ms: 103480\n  end_ms: 108120\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 108120\n  end_ms: 110920\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 110920\n  end_ms: 113960\n- text: Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  start_ms: 113960\n  end_ms: 115440\n- text: I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  start_ms: 115440\n  end_ms: 117280\n- text: I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  start_ms: 117280\n  end_ms: 119040\n- text: I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  start_ms: 119040\n  end_ms: 121650\n- text: But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  start_ms: 121650\n  end_ms: 124360\n- text: I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  start_ms: 124360\n  end_ms: 127240\n- text: I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  start_ms: 127240\n  end_ms: 130370\n- text: Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  start_ms: 130370\n  end_ms: 132000\n- text: When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  start_ms: 132000\n  end_ms: 135470\n- text: An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  start_ms: 135470\n  end_ms: 138350\n- text: These processions are for the negligent\n  start_ms: 138350\n  end_ms: 140360\n- text: So I don't care to hang out\n  start_ms: 140360\n  end_ms: 141880\n- text: These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  start_ms: 141880\n  end_ms: 144410\n- text: Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  start_ms: 144410\n  end_ms: 147030\n- text: Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  start_ms: 147030\n  end_ms: 149550\n- text: When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  start_ms: 149550\n  end_ms: 152200\n- text: It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  start_ms: 152200\n  end_ms: 154950\n- text: Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  start_ms: 154950\n  end_ms: 157120\n- text: Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  start_ms: 157120\n  end_ms: 159720\n- text: Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  start_ms: 159720\n  end_ms: 162120\n- text: Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  start_ms: 162120\n  end_ms: 165080\n- text: Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  start_ms: 165080\n  end_ms: 167480\n- text: Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  start_ms: 167480\n  end_ms: 170070\n- text: And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  start_ms: 170070\n  end_ms: 173440\n- text: Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 173440\n  end_ms: 176030\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 176030\n  end_ms: 180190\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 180190\n  end_ms: 182880\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 182880\n  end_ms: 185000\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  start_ms: 185000\n  end_ms: 190430\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 190430\n  end_ms: 193420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 193420\n  end_ms: 195820\n- text: Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  start_ms: 195820\n  end_ms: 198120\n- text: So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  start_ms: 198120\n  end_ms: 200440\n- text: My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  start_ms: 200440\n  end_ms: 203240\n- text: Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  start_ms: 203240\n  end_ms: 206640\n- text: For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  start_ms: 206640\n  end_ms: 209200\n- text: They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  start_ms: 209200\n  end_ms: 212710\n- text: It seemed just like a mystery\n  start_ms: 212710\n  end_ms: 214120\n- text: Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  start_ms: 214120\n  end_ms: 217170\n- text: We been known what team he acknowledged\n  start_ms: 217170\n  end_ms: 219170\n- text: Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  start_ms: 219170\n  end_ms: 221050\n- text: But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  start_ms: 221050\n  end_ms: 224410\n- text: Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  start_ms: 224410\n  end_ms: 227160\n- text: Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  start_ms: 227160\n  end_ms: 229610\n- text: So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  start_ms: 229610\n  end_ms: 231970\n- text: He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  start_ms: 231970\n  end_ms: 234600\n- text: That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  start_ms: 234600\n  end_ms: 237360\n- text: But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 237360\n  end_ms: 239880\n- text: At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  start_ms: 239880\n  end_ms: 242400\n- text: I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 242400\n  end_ms: 244960\n- text: It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  start_ms: 244960\n  end_ms: 247560\n- text: We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 247560\n  end_ms: 249980\n- text: Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  start_ms: 249980\n  end_ms: 252390\n- text: Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 252390\n  end_ms: 255550\n- text: Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  start_ms: 255550\n  end_ms: 258400\n- text: Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  start_ms: 258400\n  end_ms: 261030\n- text: Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  start_ms: 261030\n  end_ms: 263640\n- text: Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  start_ms: 263640\n  end_ms: 266030\n- text: Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  start_ms: 266030\n  end_ms: 268590\n- text: Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  start_ms: 268590\n  end_ms: 270830\n- text: There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  start_ms: 270830\n  end_ms: 273510\n- text: It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  start_ms: 273510\n  end_ms: 276040\n- text: To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  start_ms: 276040\n  end_ms: 278670\n- text: I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  start_ms: 278670\n  end_ms: 281280\n- text: But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  start_ms: 281280\n  end_ms: 283870\n- text: If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  start_ms: 283870\n  end_ms: 286660\n- text: Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n  start_ms: 286660\n  end_ms: 289630\n- text: (Safety, safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 289630\n  end_ms: 294150\n- text: Safety (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 294150\n  end_ms: 298200\n- text: Huh, alright, safety\n  start_ms: 298200\n  end_ms: 300410\n- text: Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 300410\n  end_ms: 306060\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 306060\nplain: |\n  Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n  Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n  Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  I got a new number, delete that old one\n  By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n  It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  How time can rob us of our best days\n  As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n  Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  These processions are for the negligent\n  So I don't care to hang out\n  These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n  Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  It seemed just like a mystery\n  Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  We been known what team he acknowledged\n  Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n  (Safety, safety, safety)\n  Safety (Safety, safety)\n  Huh, alright, safety\n  Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n"},{"id":36843687,"name":"SAFETY","trackName":"SAFETY","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"3.3M views","duration":196.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\nAlright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\nIt's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\nKane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\nBonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\nYo, Jermaine, what's the word?\nI got a new number, delete that old one\nBy now, I'm sure you must've heard\n'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\nIt's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\nI never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\nBeggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\nThat ain't my style, it'll never be\nTo me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\nAnd plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\nLast night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\nYou know how he be movin' like he in a rush\nTold him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\nWe sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\nI ain't even know that he smoke like that\nDrank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\nYo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\nBut bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\nLotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\nHow time can rob us of our best days\nAs we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\nBut anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\nI would love to catch up, I know you busy\nBut you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\nStay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\nSafety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\nAyy, bo, what's goin' on?\nI feel no way when you don't respond, dog\nI know your heart, and I know our bond\nI know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\nBut still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\nI heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\nI know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\nCan't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\nWhen moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\nAn uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\nThese processions are for the negligent\nSo I don't care to hang out\nThese younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\nOh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\nHere's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\nWhen she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\nIt's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\nDog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\nFew things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\nAlthough I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\nMost of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\nLike, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\nWas about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\nAnd what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\nLet me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\nunderdogs, now we worldwide)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\nYo, hit me back when you get the chance\nSo many of our peers passed away through the years\nMy appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\nYo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\nFor doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\nThey say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\nIt seemed just like a mystery\nSome say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\nWe been known what team he acknowledged\nSince we was kids, he lived in a closet\nBut that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\nRunnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\nTight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\nSo niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\nHe felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\nThat's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\nBut years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nAt 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\nI shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\nIt's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\nWe turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nNah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\nNow that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\nMan, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\nRest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\nLast summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\nShit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\nBearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\nHere go the obituary, and just in case\nThere's a program attached that gives you the time and place\nIt's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\nTo that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\nI know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\nBut I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\nIf you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\nFuneral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n(Safety, safety, safety)\nSafety (Safety, safety)\nHuh, alright, safety\nDon't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.64] Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n[00:09.68] Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n[00:13.47] It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n[00:15.79] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:18.02] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n[00:20.63] Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n[00:23.59] Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n[00:26.23] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:28.42] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n[00:31.26] Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n[00:32.87] I got a new number, delete that old one\n[00:34.83] By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n[00:36.46] 'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n[00:38.86] It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n[00:41.54] I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n[00:43.75] Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n[00:46.82] That ain't my style, it'll never be\n[00:48.62] To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n[00:51.18] And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n[00:54.55] Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n[00:57.46] You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n[00:59.65] Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n[01:02.42] We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n[01:04.72] I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n[01:06.89] Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n[01:09.36] Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n[01:12.05] But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n[01:14.97] Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n[01:17.60] How time can rob us of our best days\n[01:19.53] As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n[01:23.57] But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n[01:26.52] I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n[01:28.36] But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n[01:30.77] Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n[01:33.65] Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n[01:37.68] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[01:40.68] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n[01:43.48] Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n[01:48.12] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[01:50.92] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n[01:53.96] Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n[01:55.44] I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n[01:57.28] I know your heart, and I know our bond\n[01:59.04] I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n[02:01.65] But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n[02:04.36] I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n[02:07.24] I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n[02:10.37] Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n[02:12.00] When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n[02:15.47] An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n[02:18.35] These processions are for the negligent\n[02:20.36] So I don't care to hang out\n[02:21.88] These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n[02:24.41] Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n[02:27.03] Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n[02:29.55] When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n[02:32.20] It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n[02:34.95] Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n[02:37.12] Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n[02:39.72] Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n[02:42.12] Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n[02:45.08] Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n[02:47.48] Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n[02:50.07] And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n[02:53.44] Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n[02:56.03] Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n[03:00.19] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[03:02.88] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n[03:05.00] Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n[03:10.43] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[03:13.42] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n[03:15.82] Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n[03:18.12] So many of our peers passed away through the years\n[03:20.44] My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n[03:23.24] Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n[03:26.64] For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n[03:29.20] They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n[03:32.71] It seemed just like a mystery\n[03:34.12] Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n[03:37.17] We been known what team he acknowledged\n[03:39.17] Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n[03:41.05] But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n[03:44.41] Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n[03:47.16] Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n[03:49.61] So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n[03:51.97] He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n[03:54.60] That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n[03:57.36] But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[03:59.88] At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n[04:02.40] I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n[04:04.96] It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n[04:07.56] We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[04:09.98] Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n[04:12.39] Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n[04:15.55] Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n[04:18.40] Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n[04:21.03] Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n[04:23.64] Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n[04:26.03] Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n[04:28.59] Here go the obituary, and just in case\n[04:30.83] There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n[04:33.51] It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n[04:36.04] To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n[04:38.67] I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n[04:41.28] But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n[04:43.87] If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n[04:46.66] Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n[04:49.63] (Safety, safety, safety)\n[04:54.15] Safety (Safety, safety)\n[04:58.20] Huh, alright, safety\n[05:00.41] Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n[05:06.06] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: SAFETY\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: 3.3M views\n  duration_ms: 196000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n  start_ms: 6640\n  end_ms: 9680\n- text: Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  start_ms: 9680\n  end_ms: 13470\n- text: It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  start_ms: 13470\n  end_ms: 15790\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 15790\n  end_ms: 18020\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 18020\n  end_ms: 20630\n- text: Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  start_ms: 20630\n  end_ms: 23590\n- text: Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 23590\n  end_ms: 26230\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 26230\n  end_ms: 28420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n  start_ms: 28420\n  end_ms: 31260\n- text: Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  start_ms: 31260\n  end_ms: 32870\n- text: I got a new number, delete that old one\n  start_ms: 32870\n  end_ms: 34830\n- text: By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  start_ms: 34830\n  end_ms: 36460\n- text: '''Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some'\n  start_ms: 36460\n  end_ms: 38860\n- text: It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  start_ms: 38860\n  end_ms: 41540\n- text: I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  start_ms: 41540\n  end_ms: 43750\n- text: Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  start_ms: 43750\n  end_ms: 46820\n- text: That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  start_ms: 46820\n  end_ms: 48620\n- text: To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  start_ms: 48620\n  end_ms: 51180\n- text: And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  start_ms: 51180\n  end_ms: 54550\n- text: Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  start_ms: 54550\n  end_ms: 57460\n- text: You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  start_ms: 57460\n  end_ms: 59650\n- text: Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  start_ms: 59650\n  end_ms: 62420\n- text: We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  start_ms: 62420\n  end_ms: 64720\n- text: I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  start_ms: 64720\n  end_ms: 66890\n- text: Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  start_ms: 66890\n  end_ms: 69360\n- text: Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  start_ms: 69360\n  end_ms: 72050\n- text: But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  start_ms: 72050\n  end_ms: 74970\n- text: Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  start_ms: 74970\n  end_ms: 77600\n- text: How time can rob us of our best days\n  start_ms: 77600\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 83570\n- text: But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  start_ms: 83570\n  end_ms: 86520\n- text: I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  start_ms: 86520\n  end_ms: 88360\n- text: But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  start_ms: 88360\n  end_ms: 90770\n- text: Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 90770\n  end_ms: 93650\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 93650\n  end_ms: 97680\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 97680\n  end_ms: 100680\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  start_ms: 100680\n  end_ms: 103480\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  start_ms: 103480\n  end_ms: 108120\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 108120\n  end_ms: 110920\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 110920\n  end_ms: 113960\n- text: Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  start_ms: 113960\n  end_ms: 115440\n- text: I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  start_ms: 115440\n  end_ms: 117280\n- text: I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  start_ms: 117280\n  end_ms: 119040\n- text: I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  start_ms: 119040\n  end_ms: 121650\n- text: But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  start_ms: 121650\n  end_ms: 124360\n- text: I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  start_ms: 124360\n  end_ms: 127240\n- text: I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  start_ms: 127240\n  end_ms: 130370\n- text: Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  start_ms: 130370\n  end_ms: 132000\n- text: When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  start_ms: 132000\n  end_ms: 135470\n- text: An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  start_ms: 135470\n  end_ms: 138350\n- text: These processions are for the negligent\n  start_ms: 138350\n  end_ms: 140360\n- text: So I don't care to hang out\n  start_ms: 140360\n  end_ms: 141880\n- text: These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  start_ms: 141880\n  end_ms: 144410\n- text: Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  start_ms: 144410\n  end_ms: 147030\n- text: Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  start_ms: 147030\n  end_ms: 149550\n- text: When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  start_ms: 149550\n  end_ms: 152200\n- text: It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  start_ms: 152200\n  end_ms: 154950\n- text: Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  start_ms: 154950\n  end_ms: 157120\n- text: Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  start_ms: 157120\n  end_ms: 159720\n- text: Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  start_ms: 159720\n  end_ms: 162120\n- text: Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  start_ms: 162120\n  end_ms: 165080\n- text: Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  start_ms: 165080\n  end_ms: 167480\n- text: Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  start_ms: 167480\n  end_ms: 170070\n- text: And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  start_ms: 170070\n  end_ms: 173440\n- text: Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 173440\n  end_ms: 176030\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 176030\n  end_ms: 180190\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 180190\n  end_ms: 182880\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 182880\n  end_ms: 185000\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  start_ms: 185000\n  end_ms: 190430\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 190430\n  end_ms: 193420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 193420\n  end_ms: 195820\n- text: Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  start_ms: 195820\n  end_ms: 198120\n- text: So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  start_ms: 198120\n  end_ms: 200440\n- text: My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  start_ms: 200440\n  end_ms: 203240\n- text: Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  start_ms: 203240\n  end_ms: 206640\n- text: For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  start_ms: 206640\n  end_ms: 209200\n- text: They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  start_ms: 209200\n  end_ms: 212710\n- text: It seemed just like a mystery\n  start_ms: 212710\n  end_ms: 214120\n- text: Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  start_ms: 214120\n  end_ms: 217170\n- text: We been known what team he acknowledged\n  start_ms: 217170\n  end_ms: 219170\n- text: Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  start_ms: 219170\n  end_ms: 221050\n- text: But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  start_ms: 221050\n  end_ms: 224410\n- text: Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  start_ms: 224410\n  end_ms: 227160\n- text: Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  start_ms: 227160\n  end_ms: 229610\n- text: So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  start_ms: 229610\n  end_ms: 231970\n- text: He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  start_ms: 231970\n  end_ms: 234600\n- text: That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  start_ms: 234600\n  end_ms: 237360\n- text: But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 237360\n  end_ms: 239880\n- text: At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  start_ms: 239880\n  end_ms: 242400\n- text: I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 242400\n  end_ms: 244960\n- text: It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  start_ms: 244960\n  end_ms: 247560\n- text: We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 247560\n  end_ms: 249980\n- text: Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  start_ms: 249980\n  end_ms: 252390\n- text: Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 252390\n  end_ms: 255550\n- text: Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  start_ms: 255550\n  end_ms: 258400\n- text: Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  start_ms: 258400\n  end_ms: 261030\n- text: Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  start_ms: 261030\n  end_ms: 263640\n- text: Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  start_ms: 263640\n  end_ms: 266030\n- text: Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  start_ms: 266030\n  end_ms: 268590\n- text: Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  start_ms: 268590\n  end_ms: 270830\n- text: There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  start_ms: 270830\n  end_ms: 273510\n- text: It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  start_ms: 273510\n  end_ms: 276040\n- text: To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  start_ms: 276040\n  end_ms: 278670\n- text: I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  start_ms: 278670\n  end_ms: 281280\n- text: But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  start_ms: 281280\n  end_ms: 283870\n- text: If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  start_ms: 283870\n  end_ms: 286660\n- text: Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n  start_ms: 286660\n  end_ms: 289630\n- text: (Safety, safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 289630\n  end_ms: 294150\n- text: Safety (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 294150\n  end_ms: 298200\n- text: Huh, alright, safety\n  start_ms: 298200\n  end_ms: 300410\n- text: Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 300410\n  end_ms: 306060\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 306060\nplain: |\n  Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n  Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n  Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  I got a new number, delete that old one\n  By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n  It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  How time can rob us of our best days\n  As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n  Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  These processions are for the negligent\n  So I don't care to hang out\n  These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n  Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  It seemed just like a mystery\n  Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  We been known what team he acknowledged\n  Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n  (Safety, safety, safety)\n  Safety (Safety, safety)\n  Huh, alright, safety\n  Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n"},{"id":36457038,"name":"SAFETY","trackName":"SAFETY","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"The Fall-Off (explicit)","duration":318.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\nAlright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\nIt's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\nKane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\nBonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\nYo, Jermaine, what's the word?\nI got a new number, delete that old one\nBy now, I'm sure you must've heard\n'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\nIt's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\nI never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\nBeggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\nThat ain't my style, it'll never be\nTo me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\nAnd plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\nLast night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\nYou know how he be movin' like he in a rush\nTold him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\nWe sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\nI ain't even know that he smoke like that\nDrank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\nYo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\nBut bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\nLotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\nHow time can rob us of our best days\nAs we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\nBut anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\nI would love to catch up, I know you busy\nBut you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\nStay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\nSafety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\nAyy, bo, what's goin' on?\nI feel no way when you don't respond, dog\nI know your heart, and I know our bond\nI know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\nBut still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\nI heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\nI know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\nCan't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\nWhen moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\nAn uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\nThese processions are for the negligent\nSo I don't care to hang out\nThese younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\nOh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\nHere's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\nWhen she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\nIt's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\nDog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\nFew things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\nAlthough I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\nMost of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\nLike, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\nWas about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\nAnd what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\nLet me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\nunderdogs, now we worldwide)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\nYo, hit me back when you get the chance\nSo many of our peers passed away through the years\nMy appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\nYo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\nFor doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\nThey say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\nIt seemed just like a mystery\nSome say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\nWe been known what team he acknowledged\nSince we was kids, he lived in a closet\nBut that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\nRunnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\nTight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\nSo niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\nHe felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\nThat's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\nBut years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nAt 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\nI shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\nIt's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\nWe turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nNah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\nNow that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\nMan, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\nRest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\nLast summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\nShit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\nBearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\nHere go the obituary, and just in case\nThere's a program attached that gives you the time and place\nIt's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\nTo that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\nI know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\nBut I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\nIf you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\nFuneral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n(Safety, safety, safety)\nSafety (Safety, safety)\nHuh, alright, safety\nDon't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.64] Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n[00:09.68] Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n[00:13.47] It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n[00:15.79] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:18.02] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n[00:20.63] Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n[00:23.59] Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n[00:26.23] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:28.42] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n[00:31.26] Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n[00:32.87] I got a new number, delete that old one\n[00:34.83] By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n[00:36.46] 'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n[00:38.86] It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n[00:41.54] I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n[00:43.75] Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n[00:46.82] That ain't my style, it'll never be\n[00:48.62] To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n[00:51.18] And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n[00:54.55] Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n[00:57.46] You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n[00:59.65] Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n[01:02.42] We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n[01:04.72] I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n[01:06.89] Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n[01:09.36] Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n[01:12.05] But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n[01:14.97] Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n[01:17.60] How time can rob us of our best days\n[01:19.53] As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n[01:23.57] But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n[01:26.52] I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n[01:28.36] But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n[01:30.77] Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n[01:33.65] Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n[01:37.68] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[01:40.68] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n[01:43.48] Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n[01:48.12] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[01:50.92] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n[01:53.96] Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n[01:55.44] I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n[01:57.28] I know your heart, and I know our bond\n[01:59.04] I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n[02:01.65] But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n[02:04.36] I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n[02:07.24] I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n[02:10.37] Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n[02:12.00] When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n[02:15.47] An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n[02:18.35] These processions are for the negligent\n[02:20.36] So I don't care to hang out\n[02:21.88] These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n[02:24.41] Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n[02:27.03] Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n[02:29.55] When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n[02:32.20] It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n[02:34.95] Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n[02:37.12] Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n[02:39.72] Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n[02:42.12] Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n[02:45.08] Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n[02:47.48] Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n[02:50.07] And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n[02:53.44] Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n[02:56.03] Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n[03:00.19] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[03:02.88] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n[03:05.00] Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n[03:10.43] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[03:13.42] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n[03:15.82] Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n[03:18.12] So many of our peers passed away through the years\n[03:20.44] My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n[03:23.24] Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n[03:26.64] For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n[03:29.20] They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n[03:32.71] It seemed just like a mystery\n[03:34.12] Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n[03:37.17] We been known what team he acknowledged\n[03:39.17] Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n[03:41.05] But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n[03:44.41] Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n[03:47.16] Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n[03:49.61] So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n[03:51.97] He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n[03:54.60] That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n[03:57.36] But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[03:59.88] At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n[04:02.40] I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n[04:04.96] It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n[04:07.56] We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[04:09.98] Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n[04:12.39] Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n[04:15.55] Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n[04:18.40] Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n[04:21.03] Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n[04:23.64] Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n[04:26.03] Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n[04:28.59] Here go the obituary, and just in case\n[04:30.83] There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n[04:33.51] It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n[04:36.04] To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n[04:38.67] I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n[04:41.28] But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n[04:43.87] If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n[04:46.66] Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n[04:49.63] (Safety, safety, safety)\n[04:54.15] Safety (Safety, safety)\n[04:58.20] Huh, alright, safety\n[05:00.41] Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n[05:06.06] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: SAFETY\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: The Fall-Off (explicit)\n  duration_ms: 318000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n  start_ms: 6640\n  end_ms: 9680\n- text: Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  start_ms: 9680\n  end_ms: 13470\n- text: It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  start_ms: 13470\n  end_ms: 15790\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 15790\n  end_ms: 18020\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 18020\n  end_ms: 20630\n- text: Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  start_ms: 20630\n  end_ms: 23590\n- text: Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 23590\n  end_ms: 26230\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 26230\n  end_ms: 28420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n  start_ms: 28420\n  end_ms: 31260\n- text: Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  start_ms: 31260\n  end_ms: 32870\n- text: I got a new number, delete that old one\n  start_ms: 32870\n  end_ms: 34830\n- text: By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  start_ms: 34830\n  end_ms: 36460\n- text: '''Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some'\n  start_ms: 36460\n  end_ms: 38860\n- text: It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  start_ms: 38860\n  end_ms: 41540\n- text: I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  start_ms: 41540\n  end_ms: 43750\n- text: Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  start_ms: 43750\n  end_ms: 46820\n- text: That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  start_ms: 46820\n  end_ms: 48620\n- text: To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  start_ms: 48620\n  end_ms: 51180\n- text: And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  start_ms: 51180\n  end_ms: 54550\n- text: Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  start_ms: 54550\n  end_ms: 57460\n- text: You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  start_ms: 57460\n  end_ms: 59650\n- text: Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  start_ms: 59650\n  end_ms: 62420\n- text: We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  start_ms: 62420\n  end_ms: 64720\n- text: I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  start_ms: 64720\n  end_ms: 66890\n- text: Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  start_ms: 66890\n  end_ms: 69360\n- text: Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  start_ms: 69360\n  end_ms: 72050\n- text: But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  start_ms: 72050\n  end_ms: 74970\n- text: Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  start_ms: 74970\n  end_ms: 77600\n- text: How time can rob us of our best days\n  start_ms: 77600\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 83570\n- text: But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  start_ms: 83570\n  end_ms: 86520\n- text: I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  start_ms: 86520\n  end_ms: 88360\n- text: But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  start_ms: 88360\n  end_ms: 90770\n- text: Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 90770\n  end_ms: 93650\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 93650\n  end_ms: 97680\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 97680\n  end_ms: 100680\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  start_ms: 100680\n  end_ms: 103480\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  start_ms: 103480\n  end_ms: 108120\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 108120\n  end_ms: 110920\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 110920\n  end_ms: 113960\n- text: Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  start_ms: 113960\n  end_ms: 115440\n- text: I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  start_ms: 115440\n  end_ms: 117280\n- text: I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  start_ms: 117280\n  end_ms: 119040\n- text: I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  start_ms: 119040\n  end_ms: 121650\n- text: But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  start_ms: 121650\n  end_ms: 124360\n- text: I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  start_ms: 124360\n  end_ms: 127240\n- text: I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  start_ms: 127240\n  end_ms: 130370\n- text: Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  start_ms: 130370\n  end_ms: 132000\n- text: When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  start_ms: 132000\n  end_ms: 135470\n- text: An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  start_ms: 135470\n  end_ms: 138350\n- text: These processions are for the negligent\n  start_ms: 138350\n  end_ms: 140360\n- text: So I don't care to hang out\n  start_ms: 140360\n  end_ms: 141880\n- text: These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  start_ms: 141880\n  end_ms: 144410\n- text: Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  start_ms: 144410\n  end_ms: 147030\n- text: Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  start_ms: 147030\n  end_ms: 149550\n- text: When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  start_ms: 149550\n  end_ms: 152200\n- text: It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  start_ms: 152200\n  end_ms: 154950\n- text: Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  start_ms: 154950\n  end_ms: 157120\n- text: Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  start_ms: 157120\n  end_ms: 159720\n- text: Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  start_ms: 159720\n  end_ms: 162120\n- text: Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  start_ms: 162120\n  end_ms: 165080\n- text: Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  start_ms: 165080\n  end_ms: 167480\n- text: Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  start_ms: 167480\n  end_ms: 170070\n- text: And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  start_ms: 170070\n  end_ms: 173440\n- text: Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 173440\n  end_ms: 176030\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 176030\n  end_ms: 180190\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 180190\n  end_ms: 182880\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 182880\n  end_ms: 185000\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  start_ms: 185000\n  end_ms: 190430\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 190430\n  end_ms: 193420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 193420\n  end_ms: 195820\n- text: Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  start_ms: 195820\n  end_ms: 198120\n- text: So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  start_ms: 198120\n  end_ms: 200440\n- text: My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  start_ms: 200440\n  end_ms: 203240\n- text: Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  start_ms: 203240\n  end_ms: 206640\n- text: For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  start_ms: 206640\n  end_ms: 209200\n- text: They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  start_ms: 209200\n  end_ms: 212710\n- text: It seemed just like a mystery\n  start_ms: 212710\n  end_ms: 214120\n- text: Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  start_ms: 214120\n  end_ms: 217170\n- text: We been known what team he acknowledged\n  start_ms: 217170\n  end_ms: 219170\n- text: Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  start_ms: 219170\n  end_ms: 221050\n- text: But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  start_ms: 221050\n  end_ms: 224410\n- text: Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  start_ms: 224410\n  end_ms: 227160\n- text: Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  start_ms: 227160\n  end_ms: 229610\n- text: So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  start_ms: 229610\n  end_ms: 231970\n- text: He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  start_ms: 231970\n  end_ms: 234600\n- text: That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  start_ms: 234600\n  end_ms: 237360\n- text: But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 237360\n  end_ms: 239880\n- text: At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  start_ms: 239880\n  end_ms: 242400\n- text: I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 242400\n  end_ms: 244960\n- text: It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  start_ms: 244960\n  end_ms: 247560\n- text: We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 247560\n  end_ms: 249980\n- text: Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  start_ms: 249980\n  end_ms: 252390\n- text: Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 252390\n  end_ms: 255550\n- text: Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  start_ms: 255550\n  end_ms: 258400\n- text: Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  start_ms: 258400\n  end_ms: 261030\n- text: Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  start_ms: 261030\n  end_ms: 263640\n- text: Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  start_ms: 263640\n  end_ms: 266030\n- text: Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  start_ms: 266030\n  end_ms: 268590\n- text: Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  start_ms: 268590\n  end_ms: 270830\n- text: There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  start_ms: 270830\n  end_ms: 273510\n- text: It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  start_ms: 273510\n  end_ms: 276040\n- text: To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  start_ms: 276040\n  end_ms: 278670\n- text: I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  start_ms: 278670\n  end_ms: 281280\n- text: But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  start_ms: 281280\n  end_ms: 283870\n- text: If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  start_ms: 283870\n  end_ms: 286660\n- text: Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n  start_ms: 286660\n  end_ms: 289630\n- text: (Safety, safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 289630\n  end_ms: 294150\n- text: Safety (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 294150\n  end_ms: 298200\n- text: Huh, alright, safety\n  start_ms: 298200\n  end_ms: 300410\n- text: Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 300410\n  end_ms: 306060\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 306060\nplain: |\n  Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n  Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n  Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  I got a new number, delete that old one\n  By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n  It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  How time can rob us of our best days\n  As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n  Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  These processions are for the negligent\n  So I don't care to hang out\n  These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n  Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  It seemed just like a mystery\n  Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  We been known what team he acknowledged\n  Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n  (Safety, safety, safety)\n  Safety (Safety, safety)\n  Huh, alright, safety\n  Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n"},{"id":34910246,"name":"Safety","trackName":"Safety","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"Document","duration":318.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\nAlright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\nIt's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\nKane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\nBonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\nYo, Jermaine, what's the word?\nI got a new number, delete that old one\nBy now, I'm sure you must've heard\n'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\nIt's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\nI never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\nBeggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\nThat ain't my style, it'll never be\nTo me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\nAnd plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\nLast night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\nYou know how he be movin' like he in a rush\nTold him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\nWe sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\nI ain't even know that he smoke like that\nDrank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\nYo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\nBut bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\nLotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\nHow time can rob us of our best days\nAs we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\nBut anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\nI would love to catch up, I know you busy\nBut you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\nStay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\nSafety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\nAyy, bo, what's goin' on?\nI feel no way when you don't respond, dog\nI know your heart, and I know our bond\nI know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\nBut still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\nI heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\nI know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\nCan't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\nWhen moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\nAn uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\nThese processions are for the negligent\nSo I don't care to hang out\nThese younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\nOh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\nHere's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\nWhen she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\nIt's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\nDog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\nFew things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\nAlthough I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\nMost of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\nLike, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\nWas about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\nAnd what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\nLet me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\nunderdogs, now we worldwide)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\nYo, hit me back when you get the chance\nSo many of our peers passed away through the years\nMy appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\nYo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\nFor doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\nThey say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\nIt seemed just like a mystery\nSome say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\nWe been known what team he acknowledged\nSince we was kids, he lived in a closet\nBut that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\nRunnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\nTight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\nSo niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\nHe felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\nThat's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\nBut years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nAt 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\nI shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\nIt's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\nWe turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nNah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\nNow that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\nMan, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\nRest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\nLast summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\nShit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\nBearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\nHere go the obituary, and just in case\nThere's a program attached that gives you the time and place\nIt's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\nTo that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\nI know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\nBut I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\nIf you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\nFuneral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n(Safety, safety, safety)\nSafety (Safety, safety)\nHuh, alright, safety\nDon't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.64] Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n[00:09.68] Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n[00:13.47] It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n[00:15.79] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:18.02] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n[00:20.63] Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n[00:23.59] Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n[00:26.23] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:28.42] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n[00:31.26] Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n[00:32.87] I got a new number, delete that old one\n[00:34.83] By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n[00:36.46] 'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n[00:38.86] It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n[00:41.54] I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n[00:43.75] Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n[00:46.82] That ain't my style, it'll never be\n[00:48.62] To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n[00:51.18] And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n[00:54.55] Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n[00:57.46] You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n[00:59.65] Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n[01:02.42] We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n[01:04.72] I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n[01:06.89] Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n[01:09.36] Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n[01:12.05] But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n[01:14.97] Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n[01:17.60] How time can rob us of our best days\n[01:19.53] As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n[01:23.57] But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n[01:26.52] I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n[01:28.36] But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n[01:30.77] Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n[01:33.65] Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n[01:37.68] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[01:40.68] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n[01:43.48] Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n[01:48.12] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[01:50.92] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n[01:53.96] Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n[01:55.44] I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n[01:57.28] I know your heart, and I know our bond\n[01:59.04] I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n[02:01.65] But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n[02:04.36] I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n[02:07.24] I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n[02:10.37] Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n[02:12.00] When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n[02:15.47] An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n[02:18.35] These processions are for the negligent\n[02:20.36] So I don't care to hang out\n[02:21.88] These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n[02:24.41] Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n[02:27.03] Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n[02:29.55] When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n[02:32.20] It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n[02:34.95] Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n[02:37.12] Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n[02:39.72] Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n[02:42.12] Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n[02:45.08] Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n[02:47.48] Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n[02:50.07] And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n[02:53.44] Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n[02:56.03] Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n[03:00.19] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[03:02.88] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n[03:05.00] Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n[03:10.43] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[03:13.42] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n[03:15.82] Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n[03:18.12] So many of our peers passed away through the years\n[03:20.44] My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n[03:23.24] Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n[03:26.64] For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n[03:29.20] They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n[03:32.71] It seemed just like a mystery\n[03:34.12] Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n[03:37.17] We been known what team he acknowledged\n[03:39.17] Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n[03:41.05] But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n[03:44.41] Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n[03:47.16] Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n[03:49.61] So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n[03:51.97] He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n[03:54.60] That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n[03:57.36] But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[03:59.88] At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n[04:02.40] I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n[04:04.96] It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n[04:07.56] We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[04:09.98] Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n[04:12.39] Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n[04:15.55] Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n[04:18.40] Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n[04:21.03] Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n[04:23.64] Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n[04:26.03] Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n[04:28.59] Here go the obituary, and just in case\n[04:30.83] There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n[04:33.51] It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n[04:36.04] To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n[04:38.67] I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n[04:41.28] But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n[04:43.87] If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n[04:46.66] Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n[04:49.63] (Safety, safety, safety)\n[04:54.15] Safety (Safety, safety)\n[04:58.20] Huh, alright, safety\n[05:00.41] Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n[05:06.06] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Safety\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: Document\n  duration_ms: 318000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n  start_ms: 6640\n  end_ms: 9680\n- text: Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  start_ms: 9680\n  end_ms: 13470\n- text: It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  start_ms: 13470\n  end_ms: 15790\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 15790\n  end_ms: 18020\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 18020\n  end_ms: 20630\n- text: Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  start_ms: 20630\n  end_ms: 23590\n- text: Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 23590\n  end_ms: 26230\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 26230\n  end_ms: 28420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n  start_ms: 28420\n  end_ms: 31260\n- text: Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  start_ms: 31260\n  end_ms: 32870\n- text: I got a new number, delete that old one\n  start_ms: 32870\n  end_ms: 34830\n- text: By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  start_ms: 34830\n  end_ms: 36460\n- text: '''Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some'\n  start_ms: 36460\n  end_ms: 38860\n- text: It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  start_ms: 38860\n  end_ms: 41540\n- text: I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  start_ms: 41540\n  end_ms: 43750\n- text: Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  start_ms: 43750\n  end_ms: 46820\n- text: That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  start_ms: 46820\n  end_ms: 48620\n- text: To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  start_ms: 48620\n  end_ms: 51180\n- text: And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  start_ms: 51180\n  end_ms: 54550\n- text: Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  start_ms: 54550\n  end_ms: 57460\n- text: You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  start_ms: 57460\n  end_ms: 59650\n- text: Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  start_ms: 59650\n  end_ms: 62420\n- text: We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  start_ms: 62420\n  end_ms: 64720\n- text: I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  start_ms: 64720\n  end_ms: 66890\n- text: Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  start_ms: 66890\n  end_ms: 69360\n- text: Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  start_ms: 69360\n  end_ms: 72050\n- text: But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  start_ms: 72050\n  end_ms: 74970\n- text: Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  start_ms: 74970\n  end_ms: 77600\n- text: How time can rob us of our best days\n  start_ms: 77600\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 83570\n- text: But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  start_ms: 83570\n  end_ms: 86520\n- text: I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  start_ms: 86520\n  end_ms: 88360\n- text: But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  start_ms: 88360\n  end_ms: 90770\n- text: Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 90770\n  end_ms: 93650\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 93650\n  end_ms: 97680\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 97680\n  end_ms: 100680\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  start_ms: 100680\n  end_ms: 103480\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  start_ms: 103480\n  end_ms: 108120\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 108120\n  end_ms: 110920\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 110920\n  end_ms: 113960\n- text: Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  start_ms: 113960\n  end_ms: 115440\n- text: I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  start_ms: 115440\n  end_ms: 117280\n- text: I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  start_ms: 117280\n  end_ms: 119040\n- text: I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  start_ms: 119040\n  end_ms: 121650\n- text: But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  start_ms: 121650\n  end_ms: 124360\n- text: I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  start_ms: 124360\n  end_ms: 127240\n- text: I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  start_ms: 127240\n  end_ms: 130370\n- text: Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  start_ms: 130370\n  end_ms: 132000\n- text: When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  start_ms: 132000\n  end_ms: 135470\n- text: An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  start_ms: 135470\n  end_ms: 138350\n- text: These processions are for the negligent\n  start_ms: 138350\n  end_ms: 140360\n- text: So I don't care to hang out\n  start_ms: 140360\n  end_ms: 141880\n- text: These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  start_ms: 141880\n  end_ms: 144410\n- text: Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  start_ms: 144410\n  end_ms: 147030\n- text: Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  start_ms: 147030\n  end_ms: 149550\n- text: When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  start_ms: 149550\n  end_ms: 152200\n- text: It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  start_ms: 152200\n  end_ms: 154950\n- text: Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  start_ms: 154950\n  end_ms: 157120\n- text: Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  start_ms: 157120\n  end_ms: 159720\n- text: Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  start_ms: 159720\n  end_ms: 162120\n- text: Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  start_ms: 162120\n  end_ms: 165080\n- text: Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  start_ms: 165080\n  end_ms: 167480\n- text: Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  start_ms: 167480\n  end_ms: 170070\n- text: And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  start_ms: 170070\n  end_ms: 173440\n- text: Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 173440\n  end_ms: 176030\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 176030\n  end_ms: 180190\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 180190\n  end_ms: 182880\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 182880\n  end_ms: 185000\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  start_ms: 185000\n  end_ms: 190430\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 190430\n  end_ms: 193420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 193420\n  end_ms: 195820\n- text: Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  start_ms: 195820\n  end_ms: 198120\n- text: So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  start_ms: 198120\n  end_ms: 200440\n- text: My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  start_ms: 200440\n  end_ms: 203240\n- text: Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  start_ms: 203240\n  end_ms: 206640\n- text: For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  start_ms: 206640\n  end_ms: 209200\n- text: They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  start_ms: 209200\n  end_ms: 212710\n- text: It seemed just like a mystery\n  start_ms: 212710\n  end_ms: 214120\n- text: Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  start_ms: 214120\n  end_ms: 217170\n- text: We been known what team he acknowledged\n  start_ms: 217170\n  end_ms: 219170\n- text: Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  start_ms: 219170\n  end_ms: 221050\n- text: But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  start_ms: 221050\n  end_ms: 224410\n- text: Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  start_ms: 224410\n  end_ms: 227160\n- text: Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  start_ms: 227160\n  end_ms: 229610\n- text: So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  start_ms: 229610\n  end_ms: 231970\n- text: He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  start_ms: 231970\n  end_ms: 234600\n- text: That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  start_ms: 234600\n  end_ms: 237360\n- text: But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 237360\n  end_ms: 239880\n- text: At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  start_ms: 239880\n  end_ms: 242400\n- text: I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 242400\n  end_ms: 244960\n- text: It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  start_ms: 244960\n  end_ms: 247560\n- text: We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 247560\n  end_ms: 249980\n- text: Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  start_ms: 249980\n  end_ms: 252390\n- text: Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 252390\n  end_ms: 255550\n- text: Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  start_ms: 255550\n  end_ms: 258400\n- text: Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  start_ms: 258400\n  end_ms: 261030\n- text: Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  start_ms: 261030\n  end_ms: 263640\n- text: Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  start_ms: 263640\n  end_ms: 266030\n- text: Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  start_ms: 266030\n  end_ms: 268590\n- text: Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  start_ms: 268590\n  end_ms: 270830\n- text: There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  start_ms: 270830\n  end_ms: 273510\n- text: It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  start_ms: 273510\n  end_ms: 276040\n- text: To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  start_ms: 276040\n  end_ms: 278670\n- text: I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  start_ms: 278670\n  end_ms: 281280\n- text: But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  start_ms: 281280\n  end_ms: 283870\n- text: If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  start_ms: 283870\n  end_ms: 286660\n- text: Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n  start_ms: 286660\n  end_ms: 289630\n- text: (Safety, safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 289630\n  end_ms: 294150\n- text: Safety (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 294150\n  end_ms: 298200\n- text: Huh, alright, safety\n  start_ms: 298200\n  end_ms: 300410\n- text: Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 300410\n  end_ms: 306060\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 306060\nplain: |\n  Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n  Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n  Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  I got a new number, delete that old one\n  By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n  It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  How time can rob us of our best days\n  As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n  Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  These processions are for the negligent\n  So I don't care to hang out\n  These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n  Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  It seemed just like a mystery\n  Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  We been known what team he acknowledged\n  Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n  (Safety, safety, safety)\n  Safety (Safety, safety)\n  Huh, alright, safety\n  Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n"},{"id":34910243,"name":"Safety","trackName":"Safety","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"Document","duration":319.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\nAlright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\nIt's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\nKane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\nBonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\nYo, Jermaine, what's the word?\nI got a new number, delete that old one\nBy now, I'm sure you must've heard\n'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\nIt's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\nI never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\nBeggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\nThat ain't my style, it'll never be\nTo me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\nAnd plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\nLast night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\nYou know how he be movin' like he in a rush\nTold him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\nWe sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\nI ain't even know that he smoke like that\nDrank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\nYo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\nBut bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\nLotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\nHow time can rob us of our best days\nAs we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\nBut anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\nI would love to catch up, I know you busy\nBut you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\nStay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\nSafety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\nAyy, bo, what's goin' on?\nI feel no way when you don't respond, dog\nI know your heart, and I know our bond\nI know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\nBut still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\nI heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\nI know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\nCan't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\nWhen moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\nAn uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\nThese processions are for the negligent\nSo I don't care to hang out\nThese younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\nOh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\nHere's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\nWhen she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\nIt's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\nDog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\nFew things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\nAlthough I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\nMost of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\nLike, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\nWas about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\nAnd what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\nLet me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\nunderdogs, now we worldwide)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\nYo, hit me back when you get the chance\nSo many of our peers passed away through the years\nMy appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\nYo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\nFor doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\nThey say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\nIt seemed just like a mystery\nSome say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\nWe been known what team he acknowledged\nSince we was kids, he lived in a closet\nBut that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\nRunnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\nTight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\nSo niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\nHe felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\nThat's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\nBut years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nAt 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\nI shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\nIt's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\nWe turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nNah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\nNow that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\nMan, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\nRest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\nLast summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\nShit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\nBearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\nHere go the obituary, and just in case\nThere's a program attached that gives you the time and place\nIt's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\nTo that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\nI know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\nBut I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\nIf you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\nFuneral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n(Safety, safety, safety)\nSafety (Safety, safety)\nHuh, alright, safety\nDon't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.64] Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n[00:09.68] Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n[00:13.47] It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n[00:15.79] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:18.02] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n[00:20.63] Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n[00:23.59] Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n[00:26.23] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:28.42] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n[00:31.26] Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n[00:32.87] I got a new number, delete that old one\n[00:34.83] By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n[00:36.46] 'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n[00:38.86] It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n[00:41.54] I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n[00:43.75] Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n[00:46.82] That ain't my style, it'll never be\n[00:48.62] To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n[00:51.18] And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n[00:54.55] Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n[00:57.46] You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n[00:59.65] Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n[01:02.42] We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n[01:04.72] I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n[01:06.89] Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n[01:09.36] Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n[01:12.05] But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n[01:14.97] Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n[01:17.60] How time can rob us of our best days\n[01:19.53] As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n[01:23.57] But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n[01:26.52] I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n[01:28.36] But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n[01:30.77] Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n[01:33.65] Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n[01:37.68] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[01:40.68] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n[01:43.48] Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n[01:48.12] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[01:50.92] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n[01:53.96] Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n[01:55.44] I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n[01:57.28] I know your heart, and I know our bond\n[01:59.04] I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n[02:01.65] But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n[02:04.36] I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n[02:07.24] I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n[02:10.37] Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n[02:12.00] When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n[02:15.47] An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n[02:18.35] These processions are for the negligent\n[02:20.36] So I don't care to hang out\n[02:21.88] These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n[02:24.41] Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n[02:27.03] Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n[02:29.55] When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n[02:32.20] It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n[02:34.95] Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n[02:37.12] Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n[02:39.72] Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n[02:42.12] Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n[02:45.08] Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n[02:47.48] Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n[02:50.07] And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n[02:53.44] Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n[02:56.03] Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n[03:00.19] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[03:02.88] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n[03:05.00] Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n[03:10.43] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[03:13.42] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n[03:15.82] Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n[03:18.12] So many of our peers passed away through the years\n[03:20.44] My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n[03:23.24] Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n[03:26.64] For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n[03:29.20] They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n[03:32.71] It seemed just like a mystery\n[03:34.12] Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n[03:37.17] We been known what team he acknowledged\n[03:39.17] Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n[03:41.05] But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n[03:44.41] Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n[03:47.16] Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n[03:49.61] So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n[03:51.97] He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n[03:54.60] That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n[03:57.36] But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[03:59.88] At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n[04:02.40] I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n[04:04.96] It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n[04:07.56] We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[04:09.98] Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n[04:12.39] Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n[04:15.55] Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n[04:18.40] Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n[04:21.03] Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n[04:23.64] Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n[04:26.03] Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n[04:28.59] Here go the obituary, and just in case\n[04:30.83] There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n[04:33.51] It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n[04:36.04] To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n[04:38.67] I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n[04:41.28] But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n[04:43.87] If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n[04:46.66] Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n[04:49.63] (Safety, safety, safety)\n[04:54.15] Safety (Safety, safety)\n[04:58.20] Huh, alright, safety\n[05:00.41] Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n[05:06.06] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Safety\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: Document\n  duration_ms: 319000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n  start_ms: 6640\n  end_ms: 9680\n- text: Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  start_ms: 9680\n  end_ms: 13470\n- text: It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  start_ms: 13470\n  end_ms: 15790\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 15790\n  end_ms: 18020\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 18020\n  end_ms: 20630\n- text: Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  start_ms: 20630\n  end_ms: 23590\n- text: Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 23590\n  end_ms: 26230\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 26230\n  end_ms: 28420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n  start_ms: 28420\n  end_ms: 31260\n- text: Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  start_ms: 31260\n  end_ms: 32870\n- text: I got a new number, delete that old one\n  start_ms: 32870\n  end_ms: 34830\n- text: By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  start_ms: 34830\n  end_ms: 36460\n- text: '''Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some'\n  start_ms: 36460\n  end_ms: 38860\n- text: It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  start_ms: 38860\n  end_ms: 41540\n- text: I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  start_ms: 41540\n  end_ms: 43750\n- text: Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  start_ms: 43750\n  end_ms: 46820\n- text: That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  start_ms: 46820\n  end_ms: 48620\n- text: To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  start_ms: 48620\n  end_ms: 51180\n- text: And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  start_ms: 51180\n  end_ms: 54550\n- text: Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  start_ms: 54550\n  end_ms: 57460\n- text: You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  start_ms: 57460\n  end_ms: 59650\n- text: Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  start_ms: 59650\n  end_ms: 62420\n- text: We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  start_ms: 62420\n  end_ms: 64720\n- text: I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  start_ms: 64720\n  end_ms: 66890\n- text: Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  start_ms: 66890\n  end_ms: 69360\n- text: Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  start_ms: 69360\n  end_ms: 72050\n- text: But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  start_ms: 72050\n  end_ms: 74970\n- text: Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  start_ms: 74970\n  end_ms: 77600\n- text: How time can rob us of our best days\n  start_ms: 77600\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 83570\n- text: But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  start_ms: 83570\n  end_ms: 86520\n- text: I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  start_ms: 86520\n  end_ms: 88360\n- text: But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  start_ms: 88360\n  end_ms: 90770\n- text: Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 90770\n  end_ms: 93650\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 93650\n  end_ms: 97680\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 97680\n  end_ms: 100680\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  start_ms: 100680\n  end_ms: 103480\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  start_ms: 103480\n  end_ms: 108120\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 108120\n  end_ms: 110920\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 110920\n  end_ms: 113960\n- text: Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  start_ms: 113960\n  end_ms: 115440\n- text: I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  start_ms: 115440\n  end_ms: 117280\n- text: I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  start_ms: 117280\n  end_ms: 119040\n- text: I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  start_ms: 119040\n  end_ms: 121650\n- text: But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  start_ms: 121650\n  end_ms: 124360\n- text: I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  start_ms: 124360\n  end_ms: 127240\n- text: I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  start_ms: 127240\n  end_ms: 130370\n- text: Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  start_ms: 130370\n  end_ms: 132000\n- text: When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  start_ms: 132000\n  end_ms: 135470\n- text: An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  start_ms: 135470\n  end_ms: 138350\n- text: These processions are for the negligent\n  start_ms: 138350\n  end_ms: 140360\n- text: So I don't care to hang out\n  start_ms: 140360\n  end_ms: 141880\n- text: These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  start_ms: 141880\n  end_ms: 144410\n- text: Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  start_ms: 144410\n  end_ms: 147030\n- text: Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  start_ms: 147030\n  end_ms: 149550\n- text: When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  start_ms: 149550\n  end_ms: 152200\n- text: It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  start_ms: 152200\n  end_ms: 154950\n- text: Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  start_ms: 154950\n  end_ms: 157120\n- text: Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  start_ms: 157120\n  end_ms: 159720\n- text: Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  start_ms: 159720\n  end_ms: 162120\n- text: Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  start_ms: 162120\n  end_ms: 165080\n- text: Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  start_ms: 165080\n  end_ms: 167480\n- text: Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  start_ms: 167480\n  end_ms: 170070\n- text: And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  start_ms: 170070\n  end_ms: 173440\n- text: Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 173440\n  end_ms: 176030\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 176030\n  end_ms: 180190\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 180190\n  end_ms: 182880\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 182880\n  end_ms: 185000\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  start_ms: 185000\n  end_ms: 190430\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 190430\n  end_ms: 193420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 193420\n  end_ms: 195820\n- text: Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  start_ms: 195820\n  end_ms: 198120\n- text: So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  start_ms: 198120\n  end_ms: 200440\n- text: My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  start_ms: 200440\n  end_ms: 203240\n- text: Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  start_ms: 203240\n  end_ms: 206640\n- text: For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  start_ms: 206640\n  end_ms: 209200\n- text: They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  start_ms: 209200\n  end_ms: 212710\n- text: It seemed just like a mystery\n  start_ms: 212710\n  end_ms: 214120\n- text: Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  start_ms: 214120\n  end_ms: 217170\n- text: We been known what team he acknowledged\n  start_ms: 217170\n  end_ms: 219170\n- text: Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  start_ms: 219170\n  end_ms: 221050\n- text: But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  start_ms: 221050\n  end_ms: 224410\n- text: Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  start_ms: 224410\n  end_ms: 227160\n- text: Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  start_ms: 227160\n  end_ms: 229610\n- text: So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  start_ms: 229610\n  end_ms: 231970\n- text: He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  start_ms: 231970\n  end_ms: 234600\n- text: That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  start_ms: 234600\n  end_ms: 237360\n- text: But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 237360\n  end_ms: 239880\n- text: At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  start_ms: 239880\n  end_ms: 242400\n- text: I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 242400\n  end_ms: 244960\n- text: It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  start_ms: 244960\n  end_ms: 247560\n- text: We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 247560\n  end_ms: 249980\n- text: Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  start_ms: 249980\n  end_ms: 252390\n- text: Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 252390\n  end_ms: 255550\n- text: Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  start_ms: 255550\n  end_ms: 258400\n- text: Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  start_ms: 258400\n  end_ms: 261030\n- text: Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  start_ms: 261030\n  end_ms: 263640\n- text: Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  start_ms: 263640\n  end_ms: 266030\n- text: Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  start_ms: 266030\n  end_ms: 268590\n- text: Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  start_ms: 268590\n  end_ms: 270830\n- text: There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  start_ms: 270830\n  end_ms: 273510\n- text: It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  start_ms: 273510\n  end_ms: 276040\n- text: To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  start_ms: 276040\n  end_ms: 278670\n- text: I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  start_ms: 278670\n  end_ms: 281280\n- text: But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  start_ms: 281280\n  end_ms: 283870\n- text: If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  start_ms: 283870\n  end_ms: 286660\n- text: Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n  start_ms: 286660\n  end_ms: 289630\n- text: (Safety, safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 289630\n  end_ms: 294150\n- text: Safety (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 294150\n  end_ms: 298200\n- text: Huh, alright, safety\n  start_ms: 298200\n  end_ms: 300410\n- text: Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 300410\n  end_ms: 306060\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 306060\nplain: |\n  Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n  Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n  Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  I got a new number, delete that old one\n  By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n  It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  How time can rob us of our best days\n  As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n  Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  These processions are for the negligent\n  So I don't care to hang out\n  These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n  Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  It seemed just like a mystery\n  Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  We been known what team he acknowledged\n  Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n  (Safety, safety, safety)\n  Safety (Safety, safety)\n  Huh, alright, safety\n  Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n"},{"id":34910250,"name":"Safety","trackName":"Safety","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"Document","duration":320.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\nAlright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\nIt's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\nKane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\nBonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\nYo, Jermaine, what's the word?\nI got a new number, delete that old one\nBy now, I'm sure you must've heard\n'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\nIt's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\nI never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\nBeggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\nThat ain't my style, it'll never be\nTo me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\nAnd plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\nLast night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\nYou know how he be movin' like he in a rush\nTold him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\nWe sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\nI ain't even know that he smoke like that\nDrank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\nYo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\nBut bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\nLotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\nHow time can rob us of our best days\nAs we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\nBut anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\nI would love to catch up, I know you busy\nBut you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\nStay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\nSafety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\nAyy, bo, what's goin' on?\nI feel no way when you don't respond, dog\nI know your heart, and I know our bond\nI know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\nBut still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\nI heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\nI know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\nCan't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\nWhen moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\nAn uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\nThese processions are for the negligent\nSo I don't care to hang out\nThese younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\nOh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\nHere's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\nWhen she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\nIt's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\nDog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\nFew things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\nAlthough I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\nMost of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\nLike, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\nWas about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\nAnd what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\nLet me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\nunderdogs, now we worldwide)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\nYo, hit me back when you get the chance\nSo many of our peers passed away through the years\nMy appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\nYo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\nFor doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\nThey say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\nIt seemed just like a mystery\nSome say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\nWe been known what team he acknowledged\nSince we was kids, he lived in a closet\nBut that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\nRunnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\nTight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\nSo niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\nHe felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\nThat's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\nBut years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nAt 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\nI shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\nIt's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\nWe turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nNah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\nNow that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\nMan, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\nRest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\nLast summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\nShit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\nBearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\nHere go the obituary, and just in case\nThere's a program attached that gives you the time and place\nIt's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\nTo that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\nI know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\nBut I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\nIf you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\nFuneral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n(Safety, safety, safety)\nSafety (Safety, safety)\nHuh, alright, safety\nDon't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.64] Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n[00:09.68] Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n[00:13.47] It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n[00:15.79] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:18.02] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n[00:20.63] Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n[00:23.59] Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n[00:26.23] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:28.42] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n[00:31.26] Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n[00:32.87] I got a new number, delete that old one\n[00:34.83] By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n[00:36.46] 'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n[00:38.86] It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n[00:41.54] I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n[00:43.75] Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n[00:46.82] That ain't my style, it'll never be\n[00:48.62] To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n[00:51.18] And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n[00:54.55] Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n[00:57.46] You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n[00:59.65] Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n[01:02.42] We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n[01:04.72] I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n[01:06.89] Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n[01:09.36] Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n[01:12.05] But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n[01:14.97] Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n[01:17.60] How time can rob us of our best days\n[01:19.53] As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n[01:23.57] But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n[01:26.52] I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n[01:28.36] But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n[01:30.77] Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n[01:33.65] Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n[01:37.68] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[01:40.68] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n[01:43.48] Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n[01:48.12] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[01:50.92] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n[01:53.96] Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n[01:55.44] I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n[01:57.28] I know your heart, and I know our bond\n[01:59.04] I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n[02:01.65] But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n[02:04.36] I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n[02:07.24] I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n[02:10.37] Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n[02:12.00] When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n[02:15.47] An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n[02:18.35] These processions are for the negligent\n[02:20.36] So I don't care to hang out\n[02:21.88] These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n[02:24.41] Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n[02:27.03] Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n[02:29.55] When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n[02:32.20] It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n[02:34.95] Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n[02:37.12] Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n[02:39.72] Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n[02:42.12] Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n[02:45.08] Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n[02:47.48] Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n[02:50.07] And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n[02:53.44] Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n[02:56.03] Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n[03:00.19] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[03:02.88] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n[03:05.00] Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n[03:10.43] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[03:13.42] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n[03:15.82] Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n[03:18.12] So many of our peers passed away through the years\n[03:20.44] My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n[03:23.24] Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n[03:26.64] For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n[03:29.20] They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n[03:32.71] It seemed just like a mystery\n[03:34.12] Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n[03:37.17] We been known what team he acknowledged\n[03:39.17] Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n[03:41.05] But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n[03:44.41] Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n[03:47.16] Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n[03:49.61] So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n[03:51.97] He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n[03:54.60] That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n[03:57.36] But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[03:59.88] At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n[04:02.40] I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n[04:04.96] It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n[04:07.56] We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[04:09.98] Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n[04:12.39] Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n[04:15.55] Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n[04:18.40] Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n[04:21.03] Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n[04:23.64] Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n[04:26.03] Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n[04:28.59] Here go the obituary, and just in case\n[04:30.83] There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n[04:33.51] It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n[04:36.04] To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n[04:38.67] I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n[04:41.28] But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n[04:43.87] If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n[04:46.66] Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n[04:49.63] (Safety, safety, safety)\n[04:54.15] Safety (Safety, safety)\n[04:58.20] Huh, alright, safety\n[05:00.41] Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n[05:06.06] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Safety\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: Document\n  duration_ms: 320000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n  start_ms: 6640\n  end_ms: 9680\n- text: Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  start_ms: 9680\n  end_ms: 13470\n- text: It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  start_ms: 13470\n  end_ms: 15790\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 15790\n  end_ms: 18020\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 18020\n  end_ms: 20630\n- text: Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  start_ms: 20630\n  end_ms: 23590\n- text: Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 23590\n  end_ms: 26230\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 26230\n  end_ms: 28420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n  start_ms: 28420\n  end_ms: 31260\n- text: Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  start_ms: 31260\n  end_ms: 32870\n- text: I got a new number, delete that old one\n  start_ms: 32870\n  end_ms: 34830\n- text: By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  start_ms: 34830\n  end_ms: 36460\n- text: '''Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some'\n  start_ms: 36460\n  end_ms: 38860\n- text: It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  start_ms: 38860\n  end_ms: 41540\n- text: I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  start_ms: 41540\n  end_ms: 43750\n- text: Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  start_ms: 43750\n  end_ms: 46820\n- text: That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  start_ms: 46820\n  end_ms: 48620\n- text: To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  start_ms: 48620\n  end_ms: 51180\n- text: And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  start_ms: 51180\n  end_ms: 54550\n- text: Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  start_ms: 54550\n  end_ms: 57460\n- text: You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  start_ms: 57460\n  end_ms: 59650\n- text: Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  start_ms: 59650\n  end_ms: 62420\n- text: We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  start_ms: 62420\n  end_ms: 64720\n- text: I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  start_ms: 64720\n  end_ms: 66890\n- text: Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  start_ms: 66890\n  end_ms: 69360\n- text: Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  start_ms: 69360\n  end_ms: 72050\n- text: But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  start_ms: 72050\n  end_ms: 74970\n- text: Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  start_ms: 74970\n  end_ms: 77600\n- text: How time can rob us of our best days\n  start_ms: 77600\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 83570\n- text: But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  start_ms: 83570\n  end_ms: 86520\n- text: I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  start_ms: 86520\n  end_ms: 88360\n- text: But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  start_ms: 88360\n  end_ms: 90770\n- text: Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 90770\n  end_ms: 93650\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 93650\n  end_ms: 97680\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 97680\n  end_ms: 100680\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  start_ms: 100680\n  end_ms: 103480\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  start_ms: 103480\n  end_ms: 108120\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 108120\n  end_ms: 110920\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 110920\n  end_ms: 113960\n- text: Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  start_ms: 113960\n  end_ms: 115440\n- text: I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  start_ms: 115440\n  end_ms: 117280\n- text: I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  start_ms: 117280\n  end_ms: 119040\n- text: I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  start_ms: 119040\n  end_ms: 121650\n- text: But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  start_ms: 121650\n  end_ms: 124360\n- text: I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  start_ms: 124360\n  end_ms: 127240\n- text: I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  start_ms: 127240\n  end_ms: 130370\n- text: Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  start_ms: 130370\n  end_ms: 132000\n- text: When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  start_ms: 132000\n  end_ms: 135470\n- text: An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  start_ms: 135470\n  end_ms: 138350\n- text: These processions are for the negligent\n  start_ms: 138350\n  end_ms: 140360\n- text: So I don't care to hang out\n  start_ms: 140360\n  end_ms: 141880\n- text: These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  start_ms: 141880\n  end_ms: 144410\n- text: Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  start_ms: 144410\n  end_ms: 147030\n- text: Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  start_ms: 147030\n  end_ms: 149550\n- text: When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  start_ms: 149550\n  end_ms: 152200\n- text: It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  start_ms: 152200\n  end_ms: 154950\n- text: Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  start_ms: 154950\n  end_ms: 157120\n- text: Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  start_ms: 157120\n  end_ms: 159720\n- text: Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  start_ms: 159720\n  end_ms: 162120\n- text: Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  start_ms: 162120\n  end_ms: 165080\n- text: Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  start_ms: 165080\n  end_ms: 167480\n- text: Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  start_ms: 167480\n  end_ms: 170070\n- text: And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  start_ms: 170070\n  end_ms: 173440\n- text: Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 173440\n  end_ms: 176030\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 176030\n  end_ms: 180190\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 180190\n  end_ms: 182880\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 182880\n  end_ms: 185000\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  start_ms: 185000\n  end_ms: 190430\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 190430\n  end_ms: 193420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 193420\n  end_ms: 195820\n- text: Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  start_ms: 195820\n  end_ms: 198120\n- text: So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  start_ms: 198120\n  end_ms: 200440\n- text: My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  start_ms: 200440\n  end_ms: 203240\n- text: Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  start_ms: 203240\n  end_ms: 206640\n- text: For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  start_ms: 206640\n  end_ms: 209200\n- text: They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  start_ms: 209200\n  end_ms: 212710\n- text: It seemed just like a mystery\n  start_ms: 212710\n  end_ms: 214120\n- text: Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  start_ms: 214120\n  end_ms: 217170\n- text: We been known what team he acknowledged\n  start_ms: 217170\n  end_ms: 219170\n- text: Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  start_ms: 219170\n  end_ms: 221050\n- text: But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  start_ms: 221050\n  end_ms: 224410\n- text: Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  start_ms: 224410\n  end_ms: 227160\n- text: Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  start_ms: 227160\n  end_ms: 229610\n- text: So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  start_ms: 229610\n  end_ms: 231970\n- text: He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  start_ms: 231970\n  end_ms: 234600\n- text: That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  start_ms: 234600\n  end_ms: 237360\n- text: But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 237360\n  end_ms: 239880\n- text: At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  start_ms: 239880\n  end_ms: 242400\n- text: I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 242400\n  end_ms: 244960\n- text: It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  start_ms: 244960\n  end_ms: 247560\n- text: We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 247560\n  end_ms: 249980\n- text: Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  start_ms: 249980\n  end_ms: 252390\n- text: Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 252390\n  end_ms: 255550\n- text: Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  start_ms: 255550\n  end_ms: 258400\n- text: Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  start_ms: 258400\n  end_ms: 261030\n- text: Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  start_ms: 261030\n  end_ms: 263640\n- text: Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  start_ms: 263640\n  end_ms: 266030\n- text: Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  start_ms: 266030\n  end_ms: 268590\n- text: Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  start_ms: 268590\n  end_ms: 270830\n- text: There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  start_ms: 270830\n  end_ms: 273510\n- text: It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  start_ms: 273510\n  end_ms: 276040\n- text: To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  start_ms: 276040\n  end_ms: 278670\n- text: I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  start_ms: 278670\n  end_ms: 281280\n- text: But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  start_ms: 281280\n  end_ms: 283870\n- text: If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  start_ms: 283870\n  end_ms: 286660\n- text: Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n  start_ms: 286660\n  end_ms: 289630\n- text: (Safety, safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 289630\n  end_ms: 294150\n- text: Safety (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 294150\n  end_ms: 298200\n- text: Huh, alright, safety\n  start_ms: 298200\n  end_ms: 300410\n- text: Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 300410\n  end_ms: 306060\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 306060\nplain: |\n  Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n  Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n  Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  I got a new number, delete that old one\n  By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n  It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  How time can rob us of our best days\n  As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n  Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  These processions are for the negligent\n  So I don't care to hang out\n  These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n  Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  It seemed just like a mystery\n  Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  We been known what team he acknowledged\n  Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n  (Safety, safety, safety)\n  Safety (Safety, safety)\n  Huh, alright, safety\n  Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n"},{"id":27306993,"name":"SAFETY","trackName":"SAFETY","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"The Fall-Off","duration":318.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\nAlright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\nIt's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\nKane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\nBonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\nYo, Jermaine, what's the word?\nI got a new number, delete that old one\nBy now, I'm sure you must've heard\n'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\nIt's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\nI never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\nBeggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\nThat ain't my style, it'll never be\nTo me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\nAnd plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\nLast night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\nYou know how he be movin' like he in a rush\nTold him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\nWe sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\nI ain't even know that he smoke like that\nDrank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\nYo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\nBut bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\nLotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\nHow time can rob us of our best days\nAs we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\nBut anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\nI would love to catch up, I know you busy\nBut you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\nStay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\nSafety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\nAyy, bo, what's goin' on?\nI feel no way when you don't respond, dog\nI know your heart, and I know our bond\nI know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\nBut still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\nI heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\nI know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\nCan't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\nWhen moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\nAn uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\nThese processions are for the negligent\nSo I don't care to hang out\nThese younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\nOh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\nHere's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\nWhen she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\nIt's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\nDog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\nFew things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\nAlthough I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\nMost of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\nLike, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\nWas about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\nAnd what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\nLet me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\nunderdogs, now we worldwide)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\nYo, hit me back when you get the chance\nSo many of our peers passed away through the years\nMy appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\nYo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\nFor doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\nThey say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\nIt seemed just like a mystery\nSome say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\nWe been known what team he acknowledged\nSince we was kids, he lived in a closet\nBut that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\nRunnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\nTight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\nSo niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\nHe felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\nThat's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\nBut years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nAt 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\nI shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\nIt's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\nWe turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nNah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\nNow that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\nMan, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\nRest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\nLast summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\nShit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\nBearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\nHere go the obituary, and just in case\nThere's a program attached that gives you the time and place\nIt's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\nTo that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\nI know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\nBut I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\nIf you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\nFuneral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n(Safety, safety, safety)\nSafety (Safety, safety)\nHuh, alright, safety\nDon't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.64] Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n[00:09.68] Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n[00:13.47] It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n[00:15.79] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:18.02] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n[00:20.63] Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n[00:23.59] Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n[00:26.23] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:28.42] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n[00:31.26] Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n[00:32.87] I got a new number, delete that old one\n[00:34.83] By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n[00:36.46] 'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n[00:38.86] It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n[00:41.54] I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n[00:43.75] Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n[00:46.82] That ain't my style, it'll never be\n[00:48.62] To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n[00:51.18] And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n[00:54.55] Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n[00:57.46] You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n[00:59.65] Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n[01:02.42] We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n[01:04.72] I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n[01:06.89] Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n[01:09.36] Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n[01:12.05] But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n[01:14.97] Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n[01:17.60] How time can rob us of our best days\n[01:19.53] As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n[01:23.57] But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n[01:26.52] I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n[01:28.36] But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n[01:30.77] Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n[01:33.65] Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n[01:37.68] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[01:40.68] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n[01:43.48] Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n[01:48.12] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[01:50.92] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n[01:53.96] Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n[01:55.44] I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n[01:57.28] I know your heart, and I know our bond\n[01:59.04] I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n[02:01.65] But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n[02:04.36] I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n[02:07.24] I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n[02:10.37] Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n[02:12.00] When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n[02:15.47] An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n[02:18.35] These processions are for the negligent\n[02:20.36] So I don't care to hang out\n[02:21.88] These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n[02:24.41] Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n[02:27.03] Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n[02:29.55] When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n[02:32.20] It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n[02:34.95] Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n[02:37.12] Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n[02:39.72] Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n[02:42.12] Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n[02:45.08] Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n[02:47.48] Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n[02:50.07] And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n[02:53.44] Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n[02:56.03] Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n[03:00.19] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[03:02.88] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n[03:05.00] Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n[03:10.43] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[03:13.42] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n[03:15.82] Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n[03:18.12] So many of our peers passed away through the years\n[03:20.44] My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n[03:23.24] Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n[03:26.64] For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n[03:29.20] They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n[03:32.71] It seemed just like a mystery\n[03:34.12] Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n[03:37.17] We been known what team he acknowledged\n[03:39.17] Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n[03:41.05] But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n[03:44.41] Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n[03:47.16] Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n[03:49.61] So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n[03:51.97] He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n[03:54.60] That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n[03:57.36] But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[03:59.88] At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n[04:02.40] I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n[04:04.96] It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n[04:07.56] We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[04:09.98] Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n[04:12.39] Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n[04:15.55] Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n[04:18.40] Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n[04:21.03] Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n[04:23.64] Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n[04:26.03] Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n[04:28.59] Here go the obituary, and just in case\n[04:30.83] There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n[04:33.51] It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n[04:36.04] To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n[04:38.67] I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n[04:41.28] But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n[04:43.87] If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n[04:46.66] Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n[04:49.63] (Safety, safety, safety)\n[04:54.15] Safety (Safety, safety)\n[04:58.20] Huh, alright, safety\n[05:00.41] Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n[05:06.06] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: SAFETY\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: The Fall-Off\n  duration_ms: 318000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n  start_ms: 6640\n  end_ms: 9680\n- text: Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  start_ms: 9680\n  end_ms: 13470\n- text: It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  start_ms: 13470\n  end_ms: 15790\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 15790\n  end_ms: 18020\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 18020\n  end_ms: 20630\n- text: Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  start_ms: 20630\n  end_ms: 23590\n- text: Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 23590\n  end_ms: 26230\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 26230\n  end_ms: 28420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n  start_ms: 28420\n  end_ms: 31260\n- text: Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  start_ms: 31260\n  end_ms: 32870\n- text: I got a new number, delete that old one\n  start_ms: 32870\n  end_ms: 34830\n- text: By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  start_ms: 34830\n  end_ms: 36460\n- text: '''Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some'\n  start_ms: 36460\n  end_ms: 38860\n- text: It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  start_ms: 38860\n  end_ms: 41540\n- text: I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  start_ms: 41540\n  end_ms: 43750\n- text: Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  start_ms: 43750\n  end_ms: 46820\n- text: That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  start_ms: 46820\n  end_ms: 48620\n- text: To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  start_ms: 48620\n  end_ms: 51180\n- text: And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  start_ms: 51180\n  end_ms: 54550\n- text: Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  start_ms: 54550\n  end_ms: 57460\n- text: You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  start_ms: 57460\n  end_ms: 59650\n- text: Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  start_ms: 59650\n  end_ms: 62420\n- text: We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  start_ms: 62420\n  end_ms: 64720\n- text: I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  start_ms: 64720\n  end_ms: 66890\n- text: Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  start_ms: 66890\n  end_ms: 69360\n- text: Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  start_ms: 69360\n  end_ms: 72050\n- text: But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  start_ms: 72050\n  end_ms: 74970\n- text: Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  start_ms: 74970\n  end_ms: 77600\n- text: How time can rob us of our best days\n  start_ms: 77600\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 83570\n- text: But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  start_ms: 83570\n  end_ms: 86520\n- text: I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  start_ms: 86520\n  end_ms: 88360\n- text: But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  start_ms: 88360\n  end_ms: 90770\n- text: Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 90770\n  end_ms: 93650\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 93650\n  end_ms: 97680\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 97680\n  end_ms: 100680\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  start_ms: 100680\n  end_ms: 103480\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  start_ms: 103480\n  end_ms: 108120\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 108120\n  end_ms: 110920\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 110920\n  end_ms: 113960\n- text: Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  start_ms: 113960\n  end_ms: 115440\n- text: I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  start_ms: 115440\n  end_ms: 117280\n- text: I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  start_ms: 117280\n  end_ms: 119040\n- text: I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  start_ms: 119040\n  end_ms: 121650\n- text: But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  start_ms: 121650\n  end_ms: 124360\n- text: I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  start_ms: 124360\n  end_ms: 127240\n- text: I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  start_ms: 127240\n  end_ms: 130370\n- text: Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  start_ms: 130370\n  end_ms: 132000\n- text: When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  start_ms: 132000\n  end_ms: 135470\n- text: An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  start_ms: 135470\n  end_ms: 138350\n- text: These processions are for the negligent\n  start_ms: 138350\n  end_ms: 140360\n- text: So I don't care to hang out\n  start_ms: 140360\n  end_ms: 141880\n- text: These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  start_ms: 141880\n  end_ms: 144410\n- text: Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  start_ms: 144410\n  end_ms: 147030\n- text: Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  start_ms: 147030\n  end_ms: 149550\n- text: When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  start_ms: 149550\n  end_ms: 152200\n- text: It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  start_ms: 152200\n  end_ms: 154950\n- text: Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  start_ms: 154950\n  end_ms: 157120\n- text: Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  start_ms: 157120\n  end_ms: 159720\n- text: Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  start_ms: 159720\n  end_ms: 162120\n- text: Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  start_ms: 162120\n  end_ms: 165080\n- text: Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  start_ms: 165080\n  end_ms: 167480\n- text: Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  start_ms: 167480\n  end_ms: 170070\n- text: And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  start_ms: 170070\n  end_ms: 173440\n- text: Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 173440\n  end_ms: 176030\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 176030\n  end_ms: 180190\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 180190\n  end_ms: 182880\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 182880\n  end_ms: 185000\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  start_ms: 185000\n  end_ms: 190430\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 190430\n  end_ms: 193420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 193420\n  end_ms: 195820\n- text: Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  start_ms: 195820\n  end_ms: 198120\n- text: So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  start_ms: 198120\n  end_ms: 200440\n- text: My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  start_ms: 200440\n  end_ms: 203240\n- text: Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  start_ms: 203240\n  end_ms: 206640\n- text: For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  start_ms: 206640\n  end_ms: 209200\n- text: They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  start_ms: 209200\n  end_ms: 212710\n- text: It seemed just like a mystery\n  start_ms: 212710\n  end_ms: 214120\n- text: Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  start_ms: 214120\n  end_ms: 217170\n- text: We been known what team he acknowledged\n  start_ms: 217170\n  end_ms: 219170\n- text: Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  start_ms: 219170\n  end_ms: 221050\n- text: But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  start_ms: 221050\n  end_ms: 224410\n- text: Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  start_ms: 224410\n  end_ms: 227160\n- text: Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  start_ms: 227160\n  end_ms: 229610\n- text: So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  start_ms: 229610\n  end_ms: 231970\n- text: He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  start_ms: 231970\n  end_ms: 234600\n- text: That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  start_ms: 234600\n  end_ms: 237360\n- text: But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 237360\n  end_ms: 239880\n- text: At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  start_ms: 239880\n  end_ms: 242400\n- text: I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 242400\n  end_ms: 244960\n- text: It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  start_ms: 244960\n  end_ms: 247560\n- text: We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 247560\n  end_ms: 249980\n- text: Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  start_ms: 249980\n  end_ms: 252390\n- text: Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 252390\n  end_ms: 255550\n- text: Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  start_ms: 255550\n  end_ms: 258400\n- text: Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  start_ms: 258400\n  end_ms: 261030\n- text: Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  start_ms: 261030\n  end_ms: 263640\n- text: Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  start_ms: 263640\n  end_ms: 266030\n- text: Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  start_ms: 266030\n  end_ms: 268590\n- text: Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  start_ms: 268590\n  end_ms: 270830\n- text: There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  start_ms: 270830\n  end_ms: 273510\n- text: It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  start_ms: 273510\n  end_ms: 276040\n- text: To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  start_ms: 276040\n  end_ms: 278670\n- text: I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  start_ms: 278670\n  end_ms: 281280\n- text: But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  start_ms: 281280\n  end_ms: 283870\n- text: If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  start_ms: 283870\n  end_ms: 286660\n- text: Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n  start_ms: 286660\n  end_ms: 289630\n- text: (Safety, safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 289630\n  end_ms: 294150\n- text: Safety (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 294150\n  end_ms: 298200\n- text: Huh, alright, safety\n  start_ms: 298200\n  end_ms: 300410\n- text: Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 300410\n  end_ms: 306060\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 306060\nplain: |\n  Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n  Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n  Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  I got a new number, delete that old one\n  By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n  It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  How time can rob us of our best days\n  As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n  Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  These processions are for the negligent\n  So I don't care to hang out\n  These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n  Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  It seemed just like a mystery\n  Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  We been known what team he acknowledged\n  Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n  (Safety, safety, safety)\n  Safety (Safety, safety)\n  Huh, alright, safety\n  Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n"},{"id":27309097,"name":"SAFETY","trackName":"SAFETY","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"The Fall-Off","duration":319.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ay, can you go check on her real quick?\n\nAlright, safety (where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up)\n(Ay, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\nIt's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (safety)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safety)\nKane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\nBardy John, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (alright, safety)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\nYo, Jermaine, what's the word?\nI got a new numbеr, delete that old onе\nBy now, I'm sure you must've heard\n'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\nIt's nothin', though I did longer bids, this was a quick one\nI never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\nBeggin' you for big sums of dough\nWhen income's low, that ain't my style, it'll never be\n\nTo me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\nAnd plus, you did enough, wired me bands\nWay back when it was rough, last night\nWhen it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\nYou know how he be movin' like he in a rush\nTold him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\nWe sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\nI ain't even know that he smoke like that\n\nDrank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\nYo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\nBut bro, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n\nLotta these hos fallin' off, and it's real sad\nHow time can rob us of our best days\nAs we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg\nSaved for rainy days, but anyways, what's up?\nI thought about you, holla at me\nI would love to catch up, but I know you busy\nBut you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\nStay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up)\n(Merc Mob, Charlesboro, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\nSafety, safety, safety (Northside, Terror Garden, where my dawgs from)\n(Hope Mills, Bent Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\nAy, bro, what's goin' on?\nI feel no way when you don't respond, dog\nI know your heart, and I know our bond\nI know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\nBut still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\nI heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\nI know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\nCan't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\nWhen moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n\nAn uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\nThese processions are for the negligent\nSo I don't care to hang out\nThese younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\nOh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\nHere's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\nWhen she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\nIt's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n\nDog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\nFew things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\nAlthough I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\nMost of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\nLike, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\nWas about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\nAnd what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\nLet me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety ([?], Faye' State, throw your hands up) whoo\n(Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\nSafety, safety, safety (grateful road, whole country, put your hands up)\n(Calm down, underdogs, now we worldwide)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\nYo, hit me back when you get the chance\nSo many of our peers passed away through the years\nMy appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\nYo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\nFor doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\nThey say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\nIt seemed just like a mystery\nSome say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n\nWe been known what team he acknowledged\nSince we was kids, he lived in a closet\nBut that changed soon as he went to college\nUp there wilin' in the A&T, runnin' with fruity types\nDick in the booty types, tight pants\nSwitchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\nSo niggas from the Ville had to distance ourselves\nHe felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\nThat's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n\nBut years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (oh-oh-oh-oh)\nAt 2 a.m., with a lace front, dressin' in drag\nI shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (oh-oh)\nIt's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\nWe turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa- (oh-oh-oh-oh)\nNah, time's changed, I know that's wrong, now that we grown\nI wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (oh-oh)\nMan, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\nRest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n\nLast summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\nShit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\nBearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\nHere go the obituary, and just in case\nThere's a program attached that gives you the time and place\nIt's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\nTo that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n\nI know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\nBut I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\nIf you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\nFuneral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n(Safety, safety, safety)\nSafety (safety, safety)\nHuh, alright, safety\nI gave up, I got time's up, too stressed to reply","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.62] Ay, can you go check on her real quick?\n[00:09.78] Alright, safety (where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up)\n[00:12.96] (Ay, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n[00:13.34] It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (safety)\n[00:15.87] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:17.92] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safety)\n[00:21.17] Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n[00:23.39] Bardy John, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (alright, safety)\n[00:25.96] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:28.05] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n[00:31.23] Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n[00:33.05] I got a new numbеr, delete that old onе\n[00:34.91] By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n[00:36.59] 'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n[00:38.85] It's nothin', though I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n[00:41.69] I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n[00:44.03] Beggin' you for big sums of dough\n[00:46.09] When income's low, that ain't my style, it'll never be\n[00:48.72] To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n[00:51.36] And plus, you did enough, wired me bands\n[00:53.16] Way back when it was rough, last night\n[00:55.17] When it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n[00:57.42] You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n[00:59.66] Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n[01:02.44] We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n[01:04.83] I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n[01:06.44] Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n[01:09.40] Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n[01:12.01] But bro, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n[01:15.21] Lotta these hos fallin' off, and it's real sad\n[01:17.52] How time can rob us of our best days\n[01:19.73] As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg\n[01:22.19] Saved for rainy days, but anyways, what's up?\n[01:24.89] I thought about you, holla at me\n[01:26.38] I would love to catch up, but I know you busy\n[01:28.26] But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n[01:30.91] Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n[01:33.23] Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up)\n[01:35.64] (Merc Mob, Charlesboro, reportin' live from)\n[01:37.96] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\n[01:40.59] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n[01:43.28] Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Terror Garden, where my dawgs from)\n[01:46.11] (Hope Mills, Bent Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n[01:48.29] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[01:50.56] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n[01:53.64] Ay, bro, what's goin' on?\n[01:55.10] I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n[01:56.99] I know your heart, and I know our bond\n[01:59.04] I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n[02:01.51] But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n[02:04.06] I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n[02:06.89] I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n[02:10.17] Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n[02:12.49] When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n[02:15.15] An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n[02:18.60] These processions are for the negligent\n[02:20.42] So I don't care to hang out\n[02:21.79] These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n[02:24.32] Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n[02:26.62] Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n[02:29.31] When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n[02:32.13] It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n[02:34.85] Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n[02:36.80] Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n[02:39.53] Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n[02:42.02] Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n[02:44.76] Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n[02:47.22] Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n[02:49.76] And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n[02:53.01] Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n[02:55.49] Safety, safety, safety ([?], Faye' State, throw your hands up) whoo\n[02:58.45] (Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n[03:00.58] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\n[03:03.30] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n[03:05.95] Safety, safety, safety (grateful road, whole country, put your hands up)\n[03:08.65] (Calm down, underdogs, now we worldwide)\n[03:10.85] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[03:13.54] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n[03:16.04] Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n[03:17.99] So many of our peers passed away through the years\n[03:20.45] My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n[03:23.22] Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n[03:26.77] For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n[03:29.32] They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n[03:32.52] It seemed just like a mystery\n[03:34.34] Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n[03:37.37] We been known what team he acknowledged\n[03:38.98] Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n[03:40.70] But that changed soon as he went to college\n[03:42.68] Up there wilin' in the A&T, runnin' with fruity types\n[03:45.22] Dick in the booty types, tight pants\n[03:47.83] Switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n[03:49.58] So niggas from the Ville had to distance ourselves\n[03:51.98] He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n[03:54.30] That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n[03:56.91] But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[03:59.77] At 2 a.m., with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n[04:02.43] I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (oh-oh)\n[04:05.16] It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n[04:07.72] We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa- (oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[04:10.35] Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong, now that we grown\n[04:12.85] I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (oh-oh)\n[04:15.59] Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n[04:18.08] Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n[04:21.06] Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n[04:23.47] Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n[04:25.66] Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n[04:28.42] Here go the obituary, and just in case\n[04:31.01] There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n[04:33.66] It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n[04:35.95] To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n[04:38.59] I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n[04:41.06] But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n[04:43.59] If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n[04:46.22] Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n[04:50.78] (Safety, safety, safety)\n[04:53.94] Safety (safety, safety)\n[04:57.98] Huh, alright, safety\n[04:59.55] I gave up, I got time's up, too stressed to reply\n[05:00.42] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: SAFETY\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: The Fall-Off\n  duration_ms: 319000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Ay, can you go check on her real quick?\n  start_ms: 6620\n  end_ms: 9780\n- text: Alright, safety (where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 9780\n  end_ms: 12960\n- text: (Ay, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  start_ms: 12960\n  end_ms: 13340\n- text: It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (safety)\n  start_ms: 13340\n  end_ms: 15870\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 15870\n  end_ms: 17920\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safety)\n  start_ms: 17920\n  end_ms: 21170\n- text: Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  start_ms: 21170\n  end_ms: 23390\n- text: Bardy John, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (alright, safety)\n  start_ms: 23390\n  end_ms: 25960\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 25960\n  end_ms: 28050\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n  start_ms: 28050\n  end_ms: 31230\n- text: Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  start_ms: 31230\n  end_ms: 33050\n- text: I got a new numbеr, delete that old onе\n  start_ms: 33050\n  end_ms: 34910\n- text: By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  start_ms: 34910\n  end_ms: 36590\n- text: '''Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some'\n  start_ms: 36590\n  end_ms: 38850\n- text: It's nothin', though I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  start_ms: 38850\n  end_ms: 41690\n- text: I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  start_ms: 41690\n  end_ms: 44030\n- text: Beggin' you for big sums of dough\n  start_ms: 44030\n  end_ms: 46090\n- text: When income's low, that ain't my style, it'll never be\n  start_ms: 46090\n  end_ms: 48720\n- text: To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  start_ms: 48720\n  end_ms: 51360\n- text: And plus, you did enough, wired me bands\n  start_ms: 51360\n  end_ms: 53160\n- text: Way back when it was rough, last night\n  start_ms: 53160\n  end_ms: 55170\n- text: When it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  start_ms: 55170\n  end_ms: 57420\n- text: You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  start_ms: 57420\n  end_ms: 59660\n- text: Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  start_ms: 59660\n  end_ms: 62440\n- text: We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  start_ms: 62440\n  end_ms: 64830\n- text: I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  start_ms: 64830\n  end_ms: 66440\n- text: Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  start_ms: 66440\n  end_ms: 69400\n- text: Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  start_ms: 69400\n  end_ms: 72010\n- text: But bro, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  start_ms: 72010\n  end_ms: 75210\n- text: Lotta these hos fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  start_ms: 75210\n  end_ms: 77520\n- text: How time can rob us of our best days\n  start_ms: 77520\n  end_ms: 79730\n- text: As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg\n  start_ms: 79730\n  end_ms: 82190\n- text: Saved for rainy days, but anyways, what's up?\n  start_ms: 82190\n  end_ms: 84890\n- text: I thought about you, holla at me\n  start_ms: 84890\n  end_ms: 86380\n- text: I would love to catch up, but I know you busy\n  start_ms: 86380\n  end_ms: 88260\n- text: But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  start_ms: 88260\n  end_ms: 90910\n- text: Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 90910\n  end_ms: 93230\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 93230\n  end_ms: 95640\n- text: (Merc Mob, Charlesboro, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 95640\n  end_ms: 97960\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 97960\n  end_ms: 100590\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  start_ms: 100590\n  end_ms: 103280\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Terror Garden, where my dawgs from)\n  start_ms: 103280\n  end_ms: 106110\n- text: (Hope Mills, Bent Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  start_ms: 106110\n  end_ms: 108290\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 108290\n  end_ms: 110560\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 110560\n  end_ms: 113640\n- text: Ay, bro, what's goin' on?\n  start_ms: 113640\n  end_ms: 115100\n- text: I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  start_ms: 115100\n  end_ms: 116990\n- text: I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  start_ms: 116990\n  end_ms: 119040\n- text: I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  start_ms: 119040\n  end_ms: 121510\n- text: But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  start_ms: 121510\n  end_ms: 124060\n- text: I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  start_ms: 124060\n  end_ms: 126890\n- text: I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  start_ms: 126890\n  end_ms: 130170\n- text: Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  start_ms: 130170\n  end_ms: 132490\n- text: When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  start_ms: 132490\n  end_ms: 135150\n- text: An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  start_ms: 135150\n  end_ms: 138600\n- text: These processions are for the negligent\n  start_ms: 138600\n  end_ms: 140420\n- text: So I don't care to hang out\n  start_ms: 140420\n  end_ms: 141790\n- text: These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  start_ms: 141790\n  end_ms: 144320\n- text: Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  start_ms: 144320\n  end_ms: 146620\n- text: Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  start_ms: 146620\n  end_ms: 149310\n- text: When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  start_ms: 149310\n  end_ms: 152130\n- text: It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  start_ms: 152130\n  end_ms: 154850\n- text: Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  start_ms: 154850\n  end_ms: 156800\n- text: Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  start_ms: 156800\n  end_ms: 159530\n- text: Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  start_ms: 159530\n  end_ms: 162020\n- text: Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  start_ms: 162020\n  end_ms: 164760\n- text: Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  start_ms: 164760\n  end_ms: 167220\n- text: Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  start_ms: 167220\n  end_ms: 169760\n- text: And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  start_ms: 169760\n  end_ms: 173010\n- text: Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 173010\n  end_ms: 175490\n- text: Safety, safety, safety ([?], Faye' State, throw your hands up) whoo\n  start_ms: 175490\n  end_ms: 178450\n- text: (Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 178450\n  end_ms: 180580\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 180580\n  end_ms: 183300\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 183300\n  end_ms: 185950\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (grateful road, whole country, put your hands up)\n  start_ms: 185950\n  end_ms: 188650\n- text: (Calm down, underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  start_ms: 188650\n  end_ms: 190850\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 190850\n  end_ms: 193540\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 193540\n  end_ms: 196040\n- text: Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  start_ms: 196040\n  end_ms: 197990\n- text: So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  start_ms: 197990\n  end_ms: 200450\n- text: My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  start_ms: 200450\n  end_ms: 203220\n- text: Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  start_ms: 203220\n  end_ms: 206770\n- text: For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  start_ms: 206770\n  end_ms: 209320\n- text: They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  start_ms: 209320\n  end_ms: 212520\n- text: It seemed just like a mystery\n  start_ms: 212520\n  end_ms: 214340\n- text: Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  start_ms: 214340\n  end_ms: 217370\n- text: We been known what team he acknowledged\n  start_ms: 217370\n  end_ms: 218980\n- text: Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  start_ms: 218980\n  end_ms: 220700\n- text: But that changed soon as he went to college\n  start_ms: 220700\n  end_ms: 222680\n- text: Up there wilin' in the A&T, runnin' with fruity types\n  start_ms: 222680\n  end_ms: 225220\n- text: Dick in the booty types, tight pants\n  start_ms: 225220\n  end_ms: 227830\n- text: Switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  start_ms: 227830\n  end_ms: 229580\n- text: So niggas from the Ville had to distance ourselves\n  start_ms: 229580\n  end_ms: 231980\n- text: He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  start_ms: 231980\n  end_ms: 234300\n- text: That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  start_ms: 234300\n  end_ms: 236910\n- text: But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 236910\n  end_ms: 239770\n- text: At 2 a.m., with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  start_ms: 239770\n  end_ms: 242430\n- text: I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 242430\n  end_ms: 245160\n- text: It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  start_ms: 245160\n  end_ms: 247720\n- text: We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa- (oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 247720\n  end_ms: 250350\n- text: Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong, now that we grown\n  start_ms: 250350\n  end_ms: 252850\n- text: I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 252850\n  end_ms: 255590\n- text: Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  start_ms: 255590\n  end_ms: 258080\n- text: Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  start_ms: 258080\n  end_ms: 261060\n- text: Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  start_ms: 261060\n  end_ms: 263470\n- text: Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  start_ms: 263470\n  end_ms: 265660\n- text: Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  start_ms: 265660\n  end_ms: 268420\n- text: Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  start_ms: 268420\n  end_ms: 271010\n- text: There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  start_ms: 271010\n  end_ms: 273660\n- text: It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  start_ms: 273660\n  end_ms: 275950\n- text: To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  start_ms: 275950\n  end_ms: 278590\n- text: I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  start_ms: 278590\n  end_ms: 281060\n- text: But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  start_ms: 281060\n  end_ms: 283590\n- text: If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  start_ms: 283590\n  end_ms: 286220\n- text: Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n  start_ms: 286220\n  end_ms: 290780\n- text: (Safety, safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 290780\n  end_ms: 293940\n- text: Safety (safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 293940\n  end_ms: 297980\n- text: Huh, alright, safety\n  start_ms: 297980\n  end_ms: 299550\n- text: I gave up, I got time's up, too stressed to reply\n  start_ms: 299550\n  end_ms: 300420\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 300420\nplain: |-\n  Ay, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n  Alright, safety (where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up)\n  (Ay, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (safety)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safety)\n  Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  Bardy John, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (alright, safety)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n  Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  I got a new numbеr, delete that old onе\n  By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n  It's nothin', though I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  Beggin' you for big sums of dough\n  When income's low, that ain't my style, it'll never be\n\n  To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  And plus, you did enough, wired me bands\n  Way back when it was rough, last night\n  When it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n\n  Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  But bro, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n\n  Lotta these hos fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  How time can rob us of our best days\n  As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg\n  Saved for rainy days, but anyways, what's up?\n  I thought about you, holla at me\n  I would love to catch up, but I know you busy\n  But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up)\n  (Merc Mob, Charlesboro, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Terror Garden, where my dawgs from)\n  (Hope Mills, Bent Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n  Ay, bro, what's goin' on?\n  I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n\n  An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  These processions are for the negligent\n  So I don't care to hang out\n  These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n\n  Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety ([?], Faye' State, throw your hands up) whoo\n  (Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  Safety, safety, safety (grateful road, whole country, put your hands up)\n  (Calm down, underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n  Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  It seemed just like a mystery\n  Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n\n  We been known what team he acknowledged\n  Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  But that changed soon as he went to college\n  Up there wilin' in the A&T, runnin' with fruity types\n  Dick in the booty types, tight pants\n  Switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  So niggas from the Ville had to distance ourselves\n  He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n\n  But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  At 2 a.m., with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (oh-oh)\n  It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa- (oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong, now that we grown\n  I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (oh-oh)\n  Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n\n  Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n\n  I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n  (Safety, safety, safety)\n  Safety (safety, safety)\n  Huh, alright, safety\n  I gave up, I got time's up, too stressed to reply\n"},{"id":39145110,"name":"SAFETY","trackName":"SAFETY","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"The Fall-Off","duration":305.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\nAlright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\nIt's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\nKane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\nBonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\nYo, Jermaine, what's the word?\nI got a new number, delete that old one\nBy now, I'm sure you must've heard\n'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\nIt's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\nI never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\nBeggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\nThat ain't my style, it'll never be\nTo me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\nAnd plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\nLast night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\nYou know how he be movin' like he in a rush\nTold him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\nWe sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\nI ain't even know that he smoke like that\nDrank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\nYo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\nBut bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\nLotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\nHow time can rob us of our best days\nAs we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\nBut anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\nI would love to catch up, I know you busy\nBut you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\nStay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\nSafety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\nAyy, bo, what's goin' on?\nI feel no way when you don't respond, dog\nI know your heart, and I know our bond\nI know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\nBut still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\nI heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\nI know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\nCan't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\nWhen moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\nAn uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\nThese processions are for the negligent\nSo I don't care to hang out\nThese younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\nOh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\nHere's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\nWhen she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\nIt's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\nDog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\nFew things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\nAlthough I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\nMost of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\nLike, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\nWas about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\nAnd what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\nLet me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\nunderdogs, now we worldwide)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\nYo, hit me back when you get the chance\nSo many of our peers passed away through the years\nMy appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\nYo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\nFor doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\nThey say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\nIt seemed just like a mystery\nSome say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\nWe been known what team he acknowledged\nSince we was kids, he lived in a closet\nBut that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\nRunnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\nTight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\nSo niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\nHe felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\nThat's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\nBut years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nAt 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\nI shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\nIt's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\nWe turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nNah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\nNow that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\nMan, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\nRest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\nLast summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\nShit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\nBearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\nHere go the obituary, and just in case\nThere's a program attached that gives you the time and place\nIt's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\nTo that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\nI know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\nBut I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\nIf you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\nFuneral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n(Safety, safety, safety)\nSafety (Safety, safety)\nHuh, alright, safety\nDon't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.64]Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n[00:09.68]Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n[00:13.47]It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n[00:15.79]I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:18.02]I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n[00:20.63]Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n[00:23.59]Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n[00:26.23]I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:28.42]I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n[00:31.26]Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n[00:32.87]I got a new number, delete that old one\n[00:34.83]By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n[00:36.46]'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n[00:38.86]It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n[00:41.54]I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n[00:43.75]Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n[00:46.82]That ain't my style, it'll never be\n[00:48.62]To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n[00:51.18]And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n[00:54.55]Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n[00:57.46]You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n[00:59.65]Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n[01:02.42]We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n[01:04.72]I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n[01:06.89]Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n[01:09.36]Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n[01:12.05]But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n[01:14.97]Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n[01:17.60]How time can rob us of our best days\n[01:19.53]As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n[01:23.57]But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n[01:26.52]I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n[01:28.36]But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n[01:30.77]Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n[01:33.65]Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n[01:37.68]I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[01:40.68]I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n[01:43.48]Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n[01:48.12]I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[01:50.92]I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n[01:53.96]Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n[01:55.44]I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n[01:57.28]I know your heart, and I know our bond\n[01:59.04]I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n[02:01.65]But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n[02:04.36]I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n[02:07.24]I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n[02:10.37]Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n[02:12.00]When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n[02:15.47]An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n[02:18.35]These processions are for the negligent\n[02:20.36]So I don't care to hang out\n[02:21.88]These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n[02:24.41]Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n[02:27.03]Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n[02:29.55]When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n[02:32.20]It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n[02:34.95]Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n[02:37.12]Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n[02:39.72]Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n[02:42.12]Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n[02:45.08]Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n[02:47.48]Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n[02:50.07]And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n[02:53.44]Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n[02:56.03]Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n[03:00.19]I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[03:02.88]I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n[03:05.00]Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n[03:10.43]I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[03:13.42]I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n[03:15.82]Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n[03:18.12]So many of our peers passed away through the years\n[03:20.44]My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n[03:23.24]Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n[03:26.64]For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n[03:29.20]They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n[03:32.71]It seemed just like a mystery\n[03:34.12]Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n[03:37.17]We been known what team he acknowledged\n[03:39.17]Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n[03:41.05]But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n[03:44.41]Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n[03:47.16]Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n[03:49.61]So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n[03:51.97]He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n[03:54.60]That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n[03:57.36]But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[03:59.88]At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n[04:02.40]I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n[04:04.96]It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n[04:07.56]We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[04:09.98]Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n[04:12.39]Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n[04:15.55]Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n[04:18.40]Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n[04:21.03]Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n[04:23.64]Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n[04:26.03]Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n[04:28.59]Here go the obituary, and just in case\n[04:30.83]There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n[04:33.51]It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n[04:36.04]To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n[04:38.67]I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n[04:41.28]But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n[04:43.87]If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n[04:46.66]Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n[04:49.63](Safety, safety, safety)\n[04:54.15]Safety (Safety, safety)\n[04:58.20]Huh, alright, safety\n[05:00.41]Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n[05:06.06]","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: SAFETY\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: The Fall-Off\n  duration_ms: 305000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n  start_ms: 6640\n  end_ms: 9680\n- text: Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  start_ms: 9680\n  end_ms: 13470\n- text: It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  start_ms: 13470\n  end_ms: 15790\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 15790\n  end_ms: 18020\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 18020\n  end_ms: 20630\n- text: Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  start_ms: 20630\n  end_ms: 23590\n- text: Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 23590\n  end_ms: 26230\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 26230\n  end_ms: 28420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n  start_ms: 28420\n  end_ms: 31260\n- text: Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  start_ms: 31260\n  end_ms: 32870\n- text: I got a new number, delete that old one\n  start_ms: 32870\n  end_ms: 34830\n- text: By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  start_ms: 34830\n  end_ms: 36460\n- text: '''Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some'\n  start_ms: 36460\n  end_ms: 38860\n- text: It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  start_ms: 38860\n  end_ms: 41540\n- text: I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  start_ms: 41540\n  end_ms: 43750\n- text: Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  start_ms: 43750\n  end_ms: 46820\n- text: That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  start_ms: 46820\n  end_ms: 48620\n- text: To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  start_ms: 48620\n  end_ms: 51180\n- text: And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  start_ms: 51180\n  end_ms: 54550\n- text: Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  start_ms: 54550\n  end_ms: 57460\n- text: You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  start_ms: 57460\n  end_ms: 59650\n- text: Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  start_ms: 59650\n  end_ms: 62420\n- text: We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  start_ms: 62420\n  end_ms: 64720\n- text: I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  start_ms: 64720\n  end_ms: 66890\n- text: Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  start_ms: 66890\n  end_ms: 69360\n- text: Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  start_ms: 69360\n  end_ms: 72050\n- text: But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  start_ms: 72050\n  end_ms: 74970\n- text: Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  start_ms: 74970\n  end_ms: 77600\n- text: How time can rob us of our best days\n  start_ms: 77600\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 83570\n- text: But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  start_ms: 83570\n  end_ms: 86520\n- text: I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  start_ms: 86520\n  end_ms: 88360\n- text: But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  start_ms: 88360\n  end_ms: 90770\n- text: Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 90770\n  end_ms: 93650\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 93650\n  end_ms: 97680\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 97680\n  end_ms: 100680\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  start_ms: 100680\n  end_ms: 103480\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  start_ms: 103480\n  end_ms: 108120\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 108120\n  end_ms: 110920\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 110920\n  end_ms: 113960\n- text: Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  start_ms: 113960\n  end_ms: 115440\n- text: I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  start_ms: 115440\n  end_ms: 117280\n- text: I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  start_ms: 117280\n  end_ms: 119040\n- text: I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  start_ms: 119040\n  end_ms: 121650\n- text: But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  start_ms: 121650\n  end_ms: 124360\n- text: I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  start_ms: 124360\n  end_ms: 127240\n- text: I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  start_ms: 127240\n  end_ms: 130370\n- text: Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  start_ms: 130370\n  end_ms: 132000\n- text: When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  start_ms: 132000\n  end_ms: 135470\n- text: An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  start_ms: 135470\n  end_ms: 138350\n- text: These processions are for the negligent\n  start_ms: 138350\n  end_ms: 140360\n- text: So I don't care to hang out\n  start_ms: 140360\n  end_ms: 141880\n- text: These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  start_ms: 141880\n  end_ms: 144410\n- text: Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  start_ms: 144410\n  end_ms: 147030\n- text: Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  start_ms: 147030\n  end_ms: 149550\n- text: When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  start_ms: 149550\n  end_ms: 152200\n- text: It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  start_ms: 152200\n  end_ms: 154950\n- text: Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  start_ms: 154950\n  end_ms: 157120\n- text: Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  start_ms: 157120\n  end_ms: 159720\n- text: Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  start_ms: 159720\n  end_ms: 162120\n- text: Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  start_ms: 162120\n  end_ms: 165080\n- text: Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  start_ms: 165080\n  end_ms: 167480\n- text: Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  start_ms: 167480\n  end_ms: 170070\n- text: And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  start_ms: 170070\n  end_ms: 173440\n- text: Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 173440\n  end_ms: 176030\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 176030\n  end_ms: 180190\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 180190\n  end_ms: 182880\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 182880\n  end_ms: 185000\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  start_ms: 185000\n  end_ms: 190430\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 190430\n  end_ms: 193420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 193420\n  end_ms: 195820\n- text: Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  start_ms: 195820\n  end_ms: 198120\n- text: So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  start_ms: 198120\n  end_ms: 200440\n- text: My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  start_ms: 200440\n  end_ms: 203240\n- text: Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  start_ms: 203240\n  end_ms: 206640\n- text: For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  start_ms: 206640\n  end_ms: 209200\n- text: They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  start_ms: 209200\n  end_ms: 212710\n- text: It seemed just like a mystery\n  start_ms: 212710\n  end_ms: 214120\n- text: Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  start_ms: 214120\n  end_ms: 217170\n- text: We been known what team he acknowledged\n  start_ms: 217170\n  end_ms: 219170\n- text: Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  start_ms: 219170\n  end_ms: 221050\n- text: But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  start_ms: 221050\n  end_ms: 224410\n- text: Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  start_ms: 224410\n  end_ms: 227160\n- text: Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  start_ms: 227160\n  end_ms: 229610\n- text: So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  start_ms: 229610\n  end_ms: 231970\n- text: He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  start_ms: 231970\n  end_ms: 234600\n- text: That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  start_ms: 234600\n  end_ms: 237360\n- text: But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 237360\n  end_ms: 239880\n- text: At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  start_ms: 239880\n  end_ms: 242400\n- text: I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 242400\n  end_ms: 244960\n- text: It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  start_ms: 244960\n  end_ms: 247560\n- text: We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 247560\n  end_ms: 249980\n- text: Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  start_ms: 249980\n  end_ms: 252390\n- text: Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 252390\n  end_ms: 255550\n- text: Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  start_ms: 255550\n  end_ms: 258400\n- text: Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  start_ms: 258400\n  end_ms: 261030\n- text: Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  start_ms: 261030\n  end_ms: 263640\n- text: Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  start_ms: 263640\n  end_ms: 266030\n- text: Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  start_ms: 266030\n  end_ms: 268590\n- text: Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  start_ms: 268590\n  end_ms: 270830\n- text: There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  start_ms: 270830\n  end_ms: 273510\n- text: It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  start_ms: 273510\n  end_ms: 276040\n- text: To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  start_ms: 276040\n  end_ms: 278670\n- text: I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  start_ms: 278670\n  end_ms: 281280\n- text: But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  start_ms: 281280\n  end_ms: 283870\n- text: If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  start_ms: 283870\n  end_ms: 286660\n- text: Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n  start_ms: 286660\n  end_ms: 289630\n- text: (Safety, safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 289630\n  end_ms: 294150\n- text: Safety (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 294150\n  end_ms: 298200\n- text: Huh, alright, safety\n  start_ms: 298200\n  end_ms: 300410\n- text: Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 300410\n  end_ms: 306060\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 306060\nplain: |\n  Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n  Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n  Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  I got a new number, delete that old one\n  By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n  It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  How time can rob us of our best days\n  As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n  Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  These processions are for the negligent\n  So I don't care to hang out\n  These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n  Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  It seemed just like a mystery\n  Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  We been known what team he acknowledged\n  Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n  (Safety, safety, safety)\n  Safety (Safety, safety)\n  Huh, alright, safety\n  Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n"},{"id":38235051,"name":"SAFETY","trackName":"SAFETY","artistName":"J. Cole","albumName":"The Fall-Off","duration":243.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\nAlright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\nIt's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\nKane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\nBonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\nYo, Jermaine, what's the word?\nI got a new number, delete that old one\nBy now, I'm sure you must've heard\n'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\nIt's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\nI never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\nBeggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\nThat ain't my style, it'll never be\nTo me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\nAnd plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\nLast night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\nYou know how he be movin' like he in a rush\nTold him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\nWe sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\nI ain't even know that he smoke like that\nDrank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\nYo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\nBut bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\nLotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\nHow time can rob us of our best days\nAs we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\nBut anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\nI would love to catch up, I know you busy\nBut you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\nStay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\nSafety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\nAyy, bo, what's goin' on?\nI feel no way when you don't respond, dog\nI know your heart, and I know our bond\nI know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\nBut still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\nI heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\nI know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\nCan't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\nWhen moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\nAn uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\nThese processions are for the negligent\nSo I don't care to hang out\nThese younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\nOh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\nHere's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\nWhen she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\nIt's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\nDog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\nFew things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\nAlthough I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\nMost of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\nLike, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\nWas about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\nAnd what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\nLet me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\nunderdogs, now we worldwide)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\nYo, hit me back when you get the chance\nSo many of our peers passed away through the years\nMy appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\nYo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\nFor doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\nThey say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\nIt seemed just like a mystery\nSome say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\nWe been known what team he acknowledged\nSince we was kids, he lived in a closet\nBut that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\nRunnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\nTight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\nSo niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\nHe felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\nThat's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\nBut years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nAt 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\nI shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\nIt's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\nWe turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nNah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\nNow that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\nMan, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\nRest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\nLast summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\nShit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\nBearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\nHere go the obituary, and just in case\nThere's a program attached that gives you the time and place\nIt's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\nTo that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\nI know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\nBut I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\nIf you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\nFuneral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n(Safety, safety, safety)\nSafety (Safety, safety)\nHuh, alright, safety\nDon't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.64]Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n[00:09.68]Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n[00:13.47]It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n[00:15.79]I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:18.02]I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n[00:20.63]Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n[00:23.59]Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n[00:26.23]I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:28.42]I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n[00:31.26]Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n[00:32.87]I got a new number, delete that old one\n[00:34.83]By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n[00:36.46]'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n[00:38.86]It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n[00:41.54]I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n[00:43.75]Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n[00:46.82]That ain't my style, it'll never be\n[00:48.62]To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n[00:51.18]And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n[00:54.55]Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n[00:57.46]You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n[00:59.65]Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n[01:02.42]We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n[01:04.72]I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n[01:06.89]Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n[01:09.36]Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n[01:12.05]But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n[01:14.97]Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n[01:17.60]How time can rob us of our best days\n[01:19.53]As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n[01:23.57]But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n[01:26.52]I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n[01:28.36]But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n[01:30.77]Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n[01:33.65]Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n[01:37.68]I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[01:40.68]I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n[01:43.48]Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n[01:48.12]I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[01:50.92]I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n[01:53.96]Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n[01:55.44]I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n[01:57.28]I know your heart, and I know our bond\n[01:59.04]I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n[02:01.65]But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n[02:04.36]I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n[02:07.24]I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n[02:10.37]Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n[02:12.00]When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n[02:15.47]An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n[02:18.35]These processions are for the negligent\n[02:20.36]So I don't care to hang out\n[02:21.88]These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n[02:24.41]Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n[02:27.03]Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n[02:29.55]When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n[02:32.20]It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n[02:34.95]Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n[02:37.12]Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n[02:39.72]Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n[02:42.12]Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n[02:45.08]Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n[02:47.48]Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n[02:50.07]And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n[02:53.44]Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n[02:56.03]Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n[03:00.19]I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n[03:02.88]I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n[03:05.00]Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n[03:10.43]I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[03:13.42]I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n[03:15.82]Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n[03:18.12]So many of our peers passed away through the years\n[03:20.44]My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n[03:23.24]Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n[03:26.64]For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n[03:29.20]They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n[03:32.71]It seemed just like a mystery\n[03:34.12]Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n[03:37.17]We been known what team he acknowledged\n[03:39.17]Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n[03:41.05]But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n[03:44.41]Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n[03:47.16]Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n[03:49.61]So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n[03:51.97]He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n[03:54.60]That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n[03:57.36]But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[03:59.88]At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n[04:02.40]I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n[04:04.96]It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n[04:07.56]We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[04:09.98]Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n[04:12.39]Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n[04:15.55]Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n[04:18.40]Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n[04:21.03]Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n[04:23.64]Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n[04:26.03]Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n[04:28.59]Here go the obituary, and just in case\n[04:30.83]There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n[04:33.51]It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n[04:36.04]To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n[04:38.67]I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n[04:41.28]But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n[04:43.87]If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n[04:46.66]Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n[04:49.63](Safety, safety, safety)\n[04:54.15]Safety (Safety, safety)\n[04:58.20]Huh, alright, safety\n[05:00.41]Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n[05:06.06]","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: SAFETY\n  artist: J. Cole\n  album: The Fall-Off\n  duration_ms: 243000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n  start_ms: 6640\n  end_ms: 9680\n- text: Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  start_ms: 9680\n  end_ms: 13470\n- text: It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  start_ms: 13470\n  end_ms: 15790\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 15790\n  end_ms: 18020\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 18020\n  end_ms: 20630\n- text: Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  start_ms: 20630\n  end_ms: 23590\n- text: Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  start_ms: 23590\n  end_ms: 26230\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 26230\n  end_ms: 28420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n  start_ms: 28420\n  end_ms: 31260\n- text: Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  start_ms: 31260\n  end_ms: 32870\n- text: I got a new number, delete that old one\n  start_ms: 32870\n  end_ms: 34830\n- text: By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  start_ms: 34830\n  end_ms: 36460\n- text: '''Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some'\n  start_ms: 36460\n  end_ms: 38860\n- text: It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  start_ms: 38860\n  end_ms: 41540\n- text: I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  start_ms: 41540\n  end_ms: 43750\n- text: Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  start_ms: 43750\n  end_ms: 46820\n- text: That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  start_ms: 46820\n  end_ms: 48620\n- text: To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  start_ms: 48620\n  end_ms: 51180\n- text: And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  start_ms: 51180\n  end_ms: 54550\n- text: Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  start_ms: 54550\n  end_ms: 57460\n- text: You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  start_ms: 57460\n  end_ms: 59650\n- text: Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  start_ms: 59650\n  end_ms: 62420\n- text: We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  start_ms: 62420\n  end_ms: 64720\n- text: I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  start_ms: 64720\n  end_ms: 66890\n- text: Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  start_ms: 66890\n  end_ms: 69360\n- text: Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  start_ms: 69360\n  end_ms: 72050\n- text: But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  start_ms: 72050\n  end_ms: 74970\n- text: Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  start_ms: 74970\n  end_ms: 77600\n- text: How time can rob us of our best days\n  start_ms: 77600\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 83570\n- text: But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  start_ms: 83570\n  end_ms: 86520\n- text: I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  start_ms: 86520\n  end_ms: 88360\n- text: But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  start_ms: 88360\n  end_ms: 90770\n- text: Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 90770\n  end_ms: 93650\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 93650\n  end_ms: 97680\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 97680\n  end_ms: 100680\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  start_ms: 100680\n  end_ms: 103480\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  start_ms: 103480\n  end_ms: 108120\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 108120\n  end_ms: 110920\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 110920\n  end_ms: 113960\n- text: Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  start_ms: 113960\n  end_ms: 115440\n- text: I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  start_ms: 115440\n  end_ms: 117280\n- text: I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  start_ms: 117280\n  end_ms: 119040\n- text: I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  start_ms: 119040\n  end_ms: 121650\n- text: But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  start_ms: 121650\n  end_ms: 124360\n- text: I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  start_ms: 124360\n  end_ms: 127240\n- text: I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  start_ms: 127240\n  end_ms: 130370\n- text: Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  start_ms: 130370\n  end_ms: 132000\n- text: When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  start_ms: 132000\n  end_ms: 135470\n- text: An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  start_ms: 135470\n  end_ms: 138350\n- text: These processions are for the negligent\n  start_ms: 138350\n  end_ms: 140360\n- text: So I don't care to hang out\n  start_ms: 140360\n  end_ms: 141880\n- text: These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  start_ms: 141880\n  end_ms: 144410\n- text: Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  start_ms: 144410\n  end_ms: 147030\n- text: Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  start_ms: 147030\n  end_ms: 149550\n- text: When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  start_ms: 149550\n  end_ms: 152200\n- text: It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  start_ms: 152200\n  end_ms: 154950\n- text: Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  start_ms: 154950\n  end_ms: 157120\n- text: Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  start_ms: 157120\n  end_ms: 159720\n- text: Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  start_ms: 159720\n  end_ms: 162120\n- text: Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  start_ms: 162120\n  end_ms: 165080\n- text: Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  start_ms: 165080\n  end_ms: 167480\n- text: Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  start_ms: 167480\n  end_ms: 170070\n- text: And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  start_ms: 170070\n  end_ms: 173440\n- text: Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 173440\n  end_ms: 176030\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 176030\n  end_ms: 180190\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 180190\n  end_ms: 182880\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 182880\n  end_ms: 185000\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up, [?] underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  start_ms: 185000\n  end_ms: 190430\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 190430\n  end_ms: 193420\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 193420\n  end_ms: 195820\n- text: Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  start_ms: 195820\n  end_ms: 198120\n- text: So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  start_ms: 198120\n  end_ms: 200440\n- text: My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  start_ms: 200440\n  end_ms: 203240\n- text: Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  start_ms: 203240\n  end_ms: 206640\n- text: For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  start_ms: 206640\n  end_ms: 209200\n- text: They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  start_ms: 209200\n  end_ms: 212710\n- text: It seemed just like a mystery\n  start_ms: 212710\n  end_ms: 214120\n- text: Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  start_ms: 214120\n  end_ms: 217170\n- text: We been known what team he acknowledged\n  start_ms: 217170\n  end_ms: 219170\n- text: Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  start_ms: 219170\n  end_ms: 221050\n- text: But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  start_ms: 221050\n  end_ms: 224410\n- text: Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  start_ms: 224410\n  end_ms: 227160\n- text: Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  start_ms: 227160\n  end_ms: 229610\n- text: So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  start_ms: 229610\n  end_ms: 231970\n- text: He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  start_ms: 231970\n  end_ms: 234600\n- text: That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  start_ms: 234600\n  end_ms: 237360\n- text: But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 237360\n  end_ms: 239880\n- text: At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  start_ms: 239880\n  end_ms: 242400\n- text: I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 242400\n  end_ms: 244960\n- text: It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  start_ms: 244960\n  end_ms: 247560\n- text: We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 247560\n  end_ms: 249980\n- text: Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  start_ms: 249980\n  end_ms: 252390\n- text: Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 252390\n  end_ms: 255550\n- text: Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  start_ms: 255550\n  end_ms: 258400\n- text: Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  start_ms: 258400\n  end_ms: 261030\n- text: Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  start_ms: 261030\n  end_ms: 263640\n- text: Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  start_ms: 263640\n  end_ms: 266030\n- text: Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  start_ms: 266030\n  end_ms: 268590\n- text: Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  start_ms: 268590\n  end_ms: 270830\n- text: There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  start_ms: 270830\n  end_ms: 273510\n- text: It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  start_ms: 273510\n  end_ms: 276040\n- text: To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  start_ms: 276040\n  end_ms: 278670\n- text: I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  start_ms: 278670\n  end_ms: 281280\n- text: But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  start_ms: 281280\n  end_ms: 283870\n- text: If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  start_ms: 283870\n  end_ms: 286660\n- text: Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n  start_ms: 286660\n  end_ms: 289630\n- text: (Safety, safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 289630\n  end_ms: 294150\n- text: Safety (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 294150\n  end_ms: 298200\n- text: Huh, alright, safety\n  start_ms: 298200\n  end_ms: 300410\n- text: Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 300410\n  end_ms: 306060\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 306060\nplain: |\n  Babe, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n  Alright, safe— where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up (Babe, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (Safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safe—)\n  Kane Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (Alright, safe—)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n  Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  I got a new number, delete that old one\n  By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n  It's nothin', know I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  Beggin' you for big sums of dough when income's low\n  That ain't my style, it'll never be\n  To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  And plus, you did enough, wired me bands way back when it was rough\n  Last night, when it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  Lotta these hoes fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  How time can rob us of our best days\n  As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg saved for rainy days\n  But anyways, what's up? I thought about you, holla at me\n  I would love to catch up, I know you busy\n  But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up, Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dogs from, Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n  Ayy, bo, what's goin' on?\n  I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  These processions are for the negligent\n  So I don't care to hang out\n  These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up, wooh, Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (Safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n  Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  It seemed just like a mystery\n  Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  We been known what team he acknowledged\n  Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  But that changed soon as he went to college, up there wilin' at A&T\n  Runnin' with fruity types, dick in the booty types\n  Tight pants, switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  At 2 a.m. with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (Oh-oh)\n  It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa— (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong\n  Now that we grown, I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (Oh-oh)\n  Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n  (Safety, safety, safety)\n  Safety (Safety, safety)\n  Huh, alright, safety\n  Don't want to go back, time's up, too stressed to reply (Safety, safety)\n"},{"id":38642838,"name":"SAFETY","trackName":"SAFETY","artistName":"J․ Cole","albumName":"The Fall-Off","duration":318.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Bae, can you go check on her real quick?\n\nAlright, safety (where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up)\n(Bae, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\nIt's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (safety)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safety)\nCain Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\nBonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (alright, safety)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\nYo, Jermaine, what's the word?\nI got a new numbеr, delete that old onе\nBy now, I'm sure you must've heard\n'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\nIt's nothin', though I did longer bids, this was a quick one\nI never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\nBeggin' you for big sums of dough\nWhen income's low, that ain't my style, it'll never be\n\nTo me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\nAnd plus, you did enough, wired me bands\nWay back when it was rough, last night\nWhen it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\nYou know how he be movin' like he in a rush\nTold him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\nWe sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\nI ain't even know that he smoke like that\n\nDrank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\nYo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\nBut bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n\nLotta these hos fallin' off, and it's real sad\nHow time can rob us of our best days\nAs we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg\nSaved for rainy days, but anyways, what's up?\nI thought about you, holla at me\nI would love to catch up, but I know you busy\nBut you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\nStay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\nSafety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up)\n(Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\nSafety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dawgs from)\n(Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\nAy, bro, what's goin' on?\nI feel no way when you don't respond, dog\nI know your heart, and I know our bond\nI know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\nBut still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\nI heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\nI know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\nCan't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\nWhen moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n\nAn uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\nThese processions are for the negligent\nSo I don't care to hang out\nThese younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\nOh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\nHere's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\nWhen she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\nIt's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n\nDog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\nFew things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\nAlthough I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\nMost of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\nLike, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\nWas about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\nAnd what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\nLet me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n(Safety, safety, safety) Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up (whoo)\n(Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\nSafety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up)\n(Calm down, underdogs, now we worldwide)\nI know the whole world blowin' up your phone\nI wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\nYo, hit me back when you get the chance\nSo many of our peers passed away through the years\nMy appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\nYo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\nFor doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\nThey say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\nIt seemed just like a mystery\nSome say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n\nWe been known what team he acknowledged\nSince we was kids, he lived in a closet\nBut that changed soon as he went to college\nUp there wilin' in the A&T, runnin' with fruity types\nDick in the booty types, tight pants\nSwitchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\nSo niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\nHe felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\nThat's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n\nBut years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (oh-oh-oh-oh)\nAt 2 a.m., with a lace front, dressin' in drag\nI shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (oh-oh)\nIt's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\nWe turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa- (oh-oh-oh-oh)\nNah, time's changed, I know that's wrong, now that we grown\nI wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (oh-oh)\nMan, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\nRest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n\nLast summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\nShit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\nBearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\nHere go the obituary, and just in case\nThere's a program attached that gives you the time and place\nIt's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\nTo that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n\nI know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\nBut I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\nIf you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\nFuneral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n(Safety, safety, safety)\nSafety (safety, safety)\nHuh, alright, safety\nDon't want to go back (safety, safety), time's up, too stressed to reply","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.43] Bae, can you go check on her real quick?\n[00:09.73] Alright, safety (where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up)\n[00:12.98] (Bae, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n[00:13.35] It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (safety)\n[00:15.89] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:17.94] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safety)\n[00:21.19] Cain Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n[00:23.37] Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (alright, safety)\n[00:25.98] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[00:28.08] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n[00:31.20] Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n[00:33.03] I got a new numbеr, delete that old onе\n[00:34.97] By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n[00:36.57] 'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n[00:38.86] It's nothin', though I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n[00:41.61] I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n[00:44.04] Beggin' you for big sums of dough\n[00:46.02] When income's low, that ain't my style, it'll never be\n[00:48.77] To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n[00:51.31] And plus, you did enough, wired me bands\n[00:53.15] Way back when it was rough, last night\n[00:55.18] When it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n[00:57.43] You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n[00:59.69] Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n[01:02.45] We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n[01:04.86] I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n[01:06.41] Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n[01:09.49] Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n[01:11.87] But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n[01:15.29] Lotta these hos fallin' off, and it's real sad\n[01:17.52] How time can rob us of our best days\n[01:19.70] As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg\n[01:22.12] Saved for rainy days, but anyways, what's up?\n[01:24.89] I thought about you, holla at me\n[01:26.36] I would love to catch up, but I know you busy\n[01:28.22] But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n[01:30.93] Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n[01:33.25] Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up)\n[01:35.60] (Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n[01:37.91] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\n[01:40.54] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n[01:43.20] Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dawgs from)\n[01:46.14] (Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n[01:48.22] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[01:50.57] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n[01:53.61] Ay, bro, what's goin' on?\n[01:55.13] I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n[01:56.92] I know your heart, and I know our bond\n[01:59.03] I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n[02:01.51] But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n[02:04.04] I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n[02:06.88] I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n[02:10.10] Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n[02:12.48] When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n[02:15.18] An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n[02:18.66] These processions are for the negligent\n[02:20.44] So I don't care to hang out\n[02:21.69] These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n[02:24.34] Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n[02:26.61] Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n[02:29.39] When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n[02:32.15] It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n[02:34.82] Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n[02:36.82] Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n[02:39.54] Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n[02:42.08] Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n[02:44.74] Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n[02:47.28] Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n[02:49.74] And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n[02:53.04] Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n[02:55.49] (Safety, safety, safety) Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up (whoo)\n[02:58.49] (Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n[03:00.55] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\n[03:03.34] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n[03:05.91] Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up)\n[03:08.63] (Calm down, underdogs, now we worldwide)\n[03:10.86] I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n[03:13.55] I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n[03:16.05] Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n[03:17.90] So many of our peers passed away through the years\n[03:20.46] My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n[03:23.20] Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n[03:26.79] For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n[03:29.36] They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n[03:32.58] It seemed just like a mystery\n[03:34.37] Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n[03:37.32] We been known what team he acknowledged\n[03:38.92] Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n[03:40.77] But that changed soon as he went to college\n[03:42.66] Up there wilin' in the A&T, runnin' with fruity types\n[03:45.24] Dick in the booty types, tight pants\n[03:47.86] Switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n[03:49.51] So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n[03:51.96] He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n[03:54.38] That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n[03:56.96] But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[03:59.75] At 2 a.m., with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n[04:02.43] I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (oh-oh)\n[04:05.14] It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n[04:07.70] We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa- (oh-oh-oh-oh)\n[04:10.38] Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong, now that we grown\n[04:12.84] I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (oh-oh)\n[04:15.59] Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n[04:18.03] Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n[04:21.08] Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n[04:23.41] Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n[04:25.66] Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n[04:28.45] Here go the obituary, and just in case\n[04:31.07] There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n[04:33.62] It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n[04:35.95] To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n[04:38.53] I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n[04:41.02] But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n[04:43.54] If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n[04:46.20] Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n[04:50.71] (Safety, safety, safety)\n[04:53.91] Safety (safety, safety)\n[04:57.92] Huh, alright, safety\n[04:59.53] Don't want to go back (safety, safety), time's up, too stressed to reply\n[05:03.69] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: SAFETY\n  artist: J․ Cole\n  album: The Fall-Off\n  duration_ms: 318000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Bae, can you go check on her real quick?\n  start_ms: 6430\n  end_ms: 9730\n- text: Alright, safety (where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 9730\n  end_ms: 12980\n- text: (Bae, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  start_ms: 12980\n  end_ms: 13350\n- text: It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (safety)\n  start_ms: 13350\n  end_ms: 15890\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 15890\n  end_ms: 17940\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safety)\n  start_ms: 17940\n  end_ms: 21190\n- text: Cain Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  start_ms: 21190\n  end_ms: 23370\n- text: Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (alright, safety)\n  start_ms: 23370\n  end_ms: 25980\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 25980\n  end_ms: 28080\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n  start_ms: 28080\n  end_ms: 31200\n- text: Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  start_ms: 31200\n  end_ms: 33030\n- text: I got a new numbеr, delete that old onе\n  start_ms: 33030\n  end_ms: 34970\n- text: By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  start_ms: 34970\n  end_ms: 36570\n- text: '''Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some'\n  start_ms: 36570\n  end_ms: 38860\n- text: It's nothin', though I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  start_ms: 38860\n  end_ms: 41610\n- text: I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  start_ms: 41610\n  end_ms: 44040\n- text: Beggin' you for big sums of dough\n  start_ms: 44040\n  end_ms: 46020\n- text: When income's low, that ain't my style, it'll never be\n  start_ms: 46020\n  end_ms: 48770\n- text: To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  start_ms: 48770\n  end_ms: 51310\n- text: And plus, you did enough, wired me bands\n  start_ms: 51310\n  end_ms: 53150\n- text: Way back when it was rough, last night\n  start_ms: 53150\n  end_ms: 55180\n- text: When it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  start_ms: 55180\n  end_ms: 57430\n- text: You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  start_ms: 57430\n  end_ms: 59690\n- text: Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  start_ms: 59690\n  end_ms: 62450\n- text: We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  start_ms: 62450\n  end_ms: 64860\n- text: I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n  start_ms: 64860\n  end_ms: 66410\n- text: Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  start_ms: 66410\n  end_ms: 69490\n- text: Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  start_ms: 69490\n  end_ms: 71870\n- text: But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n  start_ms: 71870\n  end_ms: 75290\n- text: Lotta these hos fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  start_ms: 75290\n  end_ms: 77520\n- text: How time can rob us of our best days\n  start_ms: 77520\n  end_ms: 79700\n- text: As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg\n  start_ms: 79700\n  end_ms: 82120\n- text: Saved for rainy days, but anyways, what's up?\n  start_ms: 82120\n  end_ms: 84890\n- text: I thought about you, holla at me\n  start_ms: 84890\n  end_ms: 86360\n- text: I would love to catch up, but I know you busy\n  start_ms: 86360\n  end_ms: 88220\n- text: But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  start_ms: 88220\n  end_ms: 90930\n- text: Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 90930\n  end_ms: 93250\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 93250\n  end_ms: 95600\n- text: (Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 95600\n  end_ms: 97910\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 97910\n  end_ms: 100540\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  start_ms: 100540\n  end_ms: 103200\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dawgs from)\n  start_ms: 103200\n  end_ms: 106140\n- text: (Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  start_ms: 106140\n  end_ms: 108220\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 108220\n  end_ms: 110570\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 110570\n  end_ms: 113610\n- text: Ay, bro, what's goin' on?\n  start_ms: 113610\n  end_ms: 115130\n- text: I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  start_ms: 115130\n  end_ms: 116920\n- text: I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  start_ms: 116920\n  end_ms: 119030\n- text: I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  start_ms: 119030\n  end_ms: 121510\n- text: But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  start_ms: 121510\n  end_ms: 124040\n- text: I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  start_ms: 124040\n  end_ms: 126880\n- text: I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  start_ms: 126880\n  end_ms: 130100\n- text: Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  start_ms: 130100\n  end_ms: 132480\n- text: When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n  start_ms: 132480\n  end_ms: 135180\n- text: An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  start_ms: 135180\n  end_ms: 138660\n- text: These processions are for the negligent\n  start_ms: 138660\n  end_ms: 140440\n- text: So I don't care to hang out\n  start_ms: 140440\n  end_ms: 141690\n- text: These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  start_ms: 141690\n  end_ms: 144340\n- text: Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  start_ms: 144340\n  end_ms: 146610\n- text: Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  start_ms: 146610\n  end_ms: 149390\n- text: When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  start_ms: 149390\n  end_ms: 152150\n- text: It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n  start_ms: 152150\n  end_ms: 154820\n- text: Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  start_ms: 154820\n  end_ms: 156820\n- text: Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  start_ms: 156820\n  end_ms: 159540\n- text: Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  start_ms: 159540\n  end_ms: 162080\n- text: Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  start_ms: 162080\n  end_ms: 164740\n- text: Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  start_ms: 164740\n  end_ms: 167280\n- text: Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  start_ms: 167280\n  end_ms: 169740\n- text: And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  start_ms: 169740\n  end_ms: 173040\n- text: Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n  start_ms: 173040\n  end_ms: 175490\n- text: (Safety, safety, safety) Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up (whoo)\n  start_ms: 175490\n  end_ms: 178490\n- text: (Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  start_ms: 178490\n  end_ms: 180550\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 180550\n  end_ms: 183340\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 183340\n  end_ms: 185910\n- text: Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up)\n  start_ms: 185910\n  end_ms: 188630\n- text: (Calm down, underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  start_ms: 188630\n  end_ms: 190860\n- text: I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  start_ms: 190860\n  end_ms: 193550\n- text: I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  start_ms: 193550\n  end_ms: 196050\n- text: Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  start_ms: 196050\n  end_ms: 197900\n- text: So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  start_ms: 197900\n  end_ms: 200460\n- text: My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  start_ms: 200460\n  end_ms: 203200\n- text: Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  start_ms: 203200\n  end_ms: 206790\n- text: For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  start_ms: 206790\n  end_ms: 209360\n- text: They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  start_ms: 209360\n  end_ms: 212580\n- text: It seemed just like a mystery\n  start_ms: 212580\n  end_ms: 214370\n- text: Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n  start_ms: 214370\n  end_ms: 217320\n- text: We been known what team he acknowledged\n  start_ms: 217320\n  end_ms: 218920\n- text: Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  start_ms: 218920\n  end_ms: 220770\n- text: But that changed soon as he went to college\n  start_ms: 220770\n  end_ms: 222660\n- text: Up there wilin' in the A&T, runnin' with fruity types\n  start_ms: 222660\n  end_ms: 225240\n- text: Dick in the booty types, tight pants\n  start_ms: 225240\n  end_ms: 227860\n- text: Switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  start_ms: 227860\n  end_ms: 229510\n- text: So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  start_ms: 229510\n  end_ms: 231960\n- text: He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  start_ms: 231960\n  end_ms: 234380\n- text: That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n  start_ms: 234380\n  end_ms: 236960\n- text: But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 236960\n  end_ms: 239750\n- text: At 2 a.m., with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  start_ms: 239750\n  end_ms: 242430\n- text: I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 242430\n  end_ms: 245140\n- text: It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  start_ms: 245140\n  end_ms: 247700\n- text: We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa- (oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 247700\n  end_ms: 250380\n- text: Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong, now that we grown\n  start_ms: 250380\n  end_ms: 252840\n- text: I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (oh-oh)\n  start_ms: 252840\n  end_ms: 255590\n- text: Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  start_ms: 255590\n  end_ms: 258030\n- text: Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n  start_ms: 258030\n  end_ms: 261080\n- text: Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  start_ms: 261080\n  end_ms: 263410\n- text: Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  start_ms: 263410\n  end_ms: 265660\n- text: Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  start_ms: 265660\n  end_ms: 268450\n- text: Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  start_ms: 268450\n  end_ms: 271070\n- text: There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  start_ms: 271070\n  end_ms: 273620\n- text: It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  start_ms: 273620\n  end_ms: 275950\n- text: To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n  start_ms: 275950\n  end_ms: 278530\n- text: I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  start_ms: 278530\n  end_ms: 281020\n- text: But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  start_ms: 281020\n  end_ms: 283540\n- text: If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  start_ms: 283540\n  end_ms: 286200\n- text: Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n  start_ms: 286200\n  end_ms: 290710\n- text: (Safety, safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 290710\n  end_ms: 293910\n- text: Safety (safety, safety)\n  start_ms: 293910\n  end_ms: 297920\n- text: Huh, alright, safety\n  start_ms: 297920\n  end_ms: 299530\n- text: Don't want to go back (safety, safety), time's up, too stressed to reply\n  start_ms: 299530\n  end_ms: 303690\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 303690\nplain: |-\n  Bae, can you go check on her real quick?\n\n  Alright, safety (where you're from, Bunce Road, throw your hands up)\n  (Bae, can you go check on the baby real quick?)\n  It's that Bragg Boulevard, reportin' live from (safety)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah, alright, safety)\n  Cain Road, Eutaw, throw your hands up\n  Bonnie Doone, Lewis Heights, yeah, it's been a while (alright, safety)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Yeah)\n\n  Yo, Jermaine, what's the word?\n  I got a new numbеr, delete that old onе\n  By now, I'm sure you must've heard\n  'Bout how I got jammed up and had to sit some\n  It's nothin', though I did longer bids, this was a quick one\n  I never hit you 'cause I know niggas be playin' victim\n  Beggin' you for big sums of dough\n  When income's low, that ain't my style, it'll never be\n\n  To me, you'll always be my dog, not a celebrity\n  And plus, you did enough, wired me bands\n  Way back when it was rough, last night\n  When it was dusk, ran into Jizzle at Cross Creek\n  You know how he be movin' like he in a rush\n  Told him, \"Come through to the crib over at Haymount Hills\"\n  We sat in my living room, where then we lit a Dutch\n  I ain't even know that he smoke like that\n\n  Drank a few beers, it's been years since we joked like that\n  Yo, I seen Brina on the 'Gram, she don't post like that\n  But bo, she's still bad, one of the baddest bitches the 'Ville had\n\n  Lotta these hos fallin' off, and it's real sad\n  How time can rob us of our best days\n  As we slave for peasant wage with no nest egg\n  Saved for rainy days, but anyways, what's up?\n  I thought about you, holla at me\n  I would love to catch up, but I know you busy\n  But you in my prayers, God bless you and your affairs\n  Stay aware 'cause real niggas is rare, dog, safety\n\n  Safety, safety, safety (Westside, Cliffdale, throw your hands up)\n  (Merc Mob, Shaw Road, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home?\n  Safety, safety, safety (Northside, Tera Garden, where my dawgs from)\n  (Hope Mills, Grays Creek, yeah, it's been a while)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home? (Uh)\n\n  Ay, bro, what's goin' on?\n  I feel no way when you don't respond, dog\n  I know your heart, and I know our bond\n  I know a lot is on your plate and more is on your mind\n  But still I hit you time to time when you crossin' mine\n  I heard that big Mal died, and no, I couldn't tell you the cause\n  I know fentanyl's been leavin' brothers cross-eyed and things\n  Can't tell what's killin' more niggas, drugs or crossfire\n  When moms cry, it's a shame, as of late, I've seen\n\n  An uptick in motorcades, but not for the president\n  These processions are for the negligent\n  So I don't care to hang out\n  These younger niggas even quicker than I was to bang out\n  Oh, shit, forgot to say I got a daughter now\n  Here's a picture, she's startin' to look more like her father now\n  When she cries, her mama put on your songs to calm her down\n  It's wild, how just the sound of your voice, it brought a smile\n\n  Dog, I'm proud, you made it out of this bitch\n  Few things are better when a nigga from the bottom get rich\n  Although I'm sure it brings its own set of problems\n  Most of the city love you, though a couple seem jealous of your stardom\n  Like, what's up with old buddy that's makin' songs 'bout you?\n  Was about to punish him vicious, but then I thought about you\n  And what you would say, might tell me to chill, but he violatin' for real\n  Let me know when you comin' back to the 'Ville, dog, safety\n\n  (Safety, safety, safety) Seabrook, Faye' State, throw your hands up (whoo)\n  (Hillsborough, central jive, reportin' live from)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone (safety, safety)\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n  Safety, safety, safety (Raeford Road, Hoke County, put your hands up)\n  (Calm down, underdogs, now we worldwide)\n  I know the whole world blowin' up your phone\n  I wanna know, nigga, when you're comin' home\n\n  Yo, hit me back when you get the chance\n  So many of our peers passed away through the years\n  My appreciation for airs in my lungs has been enhanced\n  Yo, Quay passed last night from medical conditions that were too advanced\n  For doctors to intervene, they couldn't do a thing\n  They say he dwindled away until his size was that of a figurine\n  It seemed just like a mystery\n  Some say it was Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome\n\n  We been known what team he acknowledged\n  Since we was kids, he lived in a closet\n  But that changed soon as he went to college\n  Up there wilin' in the A&T, runnin' with fruity types\n  Dick in the booty types, tight pants\n  Switchin' their hips, paintin' their nails\n  So niggas from the 'Ville had to distance ourselves\n  He felt a way, remember, he was beefin' with me\n  That's when he moved to the A, I guess, so he could be free\n\n  But years later, I heard they seen him walkin' on Bragg (oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  At 2 a.m., with a lace front, dressin' in drag\n  I shook my head, but still, I began to feel bad (oh-oh)\n  It's like his lifestyle was blockin' all the love that we had\n  We turned our backs on him, some of us called him a fa- (oh-oh-oh-oh)\n  Nah, time's changed, I know that's wrong, now that we grown\n  I wish I could apologize, 'cause we did him wrong (oh-oh)\n  Man, why it feel like recently niggas ain't livin' long?\n  Rest in peace to your boy Filthee, I heard about that too\n\n  Last summer, lotta brothers had got murdered out the blue\n  Shit was wild, but anyhow, just reachin' out\n  Bearin' bad news infused with what I'm thinkin' 'bout\n  Here go the obituary, and just in case\n  There's a program attached that gives you the time and place\n  It's that funeral home off the merc', the one adjace'\n  To that used car lot where I copped that Ford Escape\n\n  I know fame make that shit hella awkward to be at wakes\n  But I bet it mean a lot to his family to see your face\n  If you can make it home, the viewin' is on Thursday\n  Funeral on Friday, by plane or by highway, yo' safety\n\n  (Safety, safety, safety)\n  Safety (safety, safety)\n  Huh, alright, safety\n  Don't want to go back (safety, safety), time's up, too stressed to reply\n"}]