Released: October 19, 2016

Featuring: Noname

Songwriter: Cam O’bi Akenya Noname Saba

Producer: Cam O’bi

[Intro: Akenya]
Oooh, ahhh
Oooh, ahhh

[Verse 1: Saba]
They ask you, "What's the cause and effect?"
Of doobies packed in they fat
Now you callin' collect, they booby trappin' the trap
The police pullin' a pulley, you'll fall for it you silly
Putty you outta shape, fuck runnin', you'll catch a case
I can't relate to half of my relatives
My genetics is felony, buyin' low and resellin' it
They told me tell a story, I'm like. "Why not mine?"
Shit everybody takin' pictures, I'm like "Why not Vine?"
And growin' from the ground up, it look like I'm a vine
It's rarity in my realness, yeah I'm a fine, diamond in the rough type
Rough type, roughhouse in a roadhouse like rugby
Lovely, when you hit a lick, little kick like Chun-Li
Funny, kids that I hoop with all in county
Counting, black bodies hunt 'em down look like bounties
Bound to, be on the block a little while longer
They your homies, this what home is
What don't kill ya make ya stronger
Call Obama, Jesus, Yeezus
He can save Chicago from the demons
And the deacons when it's the end
Yeah, dodged precincts since pre-teens
Let's pretend we privileged, not deceased, addicted

[Hook: Saba & Akenya]
It look like funeral home, church, church, liquor store
Corner store, dreadhead, deadly, ditto
10-4, ten foes from Cicero to Central
Was told, "Let it go," didn't know who to hit though
Now, that's church, barbershop, bottle I got
From the liquor store on Cicero, I ain't 21, but he didn't know

[Verse 2: Saba]
Bad habits of wrong places at wrong times
A stray bullet'll take your first-born like the Tenth Plague
I'm the new Pharaoh, my phone line
Forever open for prayer, the fallen soldiers ain't fell
They in my pen, and I do thank God
They say preach like Cooley High
From beginnin' to end, that's Alpha and Omega
My city the same ghost that made Lupe cry
Soon's you loosen up your grip, you lost then lose your life
I loosen a dread from every time
I gotta wash the cigarette smoke from outta my head
Like, "How I'm not dead?"
Going on 20 soon, they say I changed, that's a fitting room
I'm still the same kid that didn't speak when we were in the school
I just got a mic now, I turned to a real nigga
I just knocked the white down, and fuck who you think I sound like
I'm a legend in the making like the director's cut
Of I Am Legend and I'm fed up with the fuck comparison
These niggas don't got the truth that y'all want, do they?
Think I'm lying? Then plan a trip to Chicago today
I was 15, they was fucking with me
There's no logic in love, but there's no love in the streets

[Hook 2: Saba & Akenya]
It look like funeral home, church, church, liquor store
Corner store, dreadhead, deadly, ditto
Sillou...-ette! Chalk outline, sketch!
It's not safe outside when they want your neck
Now, that's church, barbershop, bottle I got
From the liquor store on Cicero, I ain't 21, but he didn't know

[Break: Noname]
They sold, they sold...

[Verse 3: Noname]
They sold prison the way they pipeline, systematically lifeline
Erase all niggas, they so bulletproof from the law
Law abiding citizen shot, Willie Lynch do crack now
Made the new letters shiny, now we pray King Kunta
I hope the grave don't find me, I do my E&J kindly
I do my time when it's timely
Sometimes, the Bible tastes like marmalade
My momma still sipping
Politician owe Donald Duck a quacking-new kitchen
They kept the melting pot inside the slave plot—watch
They gentrified your neighborhood, no need for cops—watch
Look at the yoga pants, coffee shops and yogurt stands
Consumerism, holy land
And on the other hand, my momma land

[Hook: Saba & Akenya]
It look like funeral home, church, church, liquor store
Corner store, dread-head, deadly—...

[Outro]
Man, give them people hell, bro...on life, let 'em know how you feelin', yo, let 'em know what's going on, bro. Free us, every chance you get, free my nigga Marl. Free Jimmy ... Fresh, yo, Frillz, yo. Let 'em know, yo, keep us alive out there in them verses, yo. On the real, bro... Ayy, love, bro. Take care, bro. Tell my brother—tell Fresh I said I love him. Tell him—when you see Squeaky, tell him I love him. Tell your bro'n'em I said what's up. I salute you, bro. You sent ol' girl them pictures, right? Aight, flat, bro. I love you, bro, I'ma talk to you in a minute, bro... [*Hangs up*]. The caller has hung up

Saba

Tahj Malik Chandler (born July 17, 1994), better known by his stage name Saba, is an American rapper and record producer. Hailing from Chicago’s Westside, specifically within the Austin neighborhood, he’s a member of Pivot Gang.

Born into a musical family, Saba got into music at a young age. He began playing piano before he turned ten, was handing out mixtapes in his high school hallways, and was performing for crowds before he turned 18.

His signature style develops a jazzy, positive, meaningful message meant to differ from the drill rap that originated in his hometown. This style was developed by a whole generation of Chicago rappers, such as Chance The Rapper and Mick Jenkins.