PROM / KING

[Part I: "PROM"]

[Verse: Saba]
This remind me of before we had insomnia (Right)
Sleeping peacefully, never needed a pile of drugs
Everybody was college-bound
No dollar amounts, in God we trust
Senior year, my prom ain't had no party bus
My cousin hit me on Facebook like, "What shorty you taking?"
I'm lying, I'm playing, I'm saying I got one to take and I'm waiting on her response
Wrote her a three-page letter, it's three days later, never hit me back—she broke my heart
So now he IM'ing me shit like, "Yo, is shorty bad?"
I pretend not to be depressed she never wrote me back
I hit him back, like, "Yo, well fuck her, it's on to the next"
I wrote that message thinking, "I'm awkward, prolly never have sex"
You know in high school, sixteen, you prolly late
My cousin hit me back: "Don't trip, bro, I got you a date"
So he sent me this link to some girl I had never seen
He said to call and tell her Walter sent you, you with me
I think about it for a minute, like, "What's his intentions?"
I mean, we never really got along or used to kick it
In fact, if I remember—vividly—he picked on me
He used to beat me up and take my sneakers every family visit
I'm skeptical to let her know I'm Walter little cousin
What if this shit all a joke? Then again, what if it wasn't?
Would I really risk the chance of me potentially fucking on some stranger daughter
'Cause I barely know if I can trust him?
Prolly not
I finally call her, tell her, "Walter sent me, my name Tahj"
She ask me, "What's the color scheme that we gon' wear to prom?"
I'm acting like I'm not excited, tryna play it off
"So what's the car we taking?" Worst come worst, her mom can take us
I call Walt to thank him; he said, "Don't trip and just wear black"
He said she cool and they go back; if any problems, hit him back
I never had to, but now, we in tune
He Facebook message me like, "Sorry, not to be a nuisance"
But he like thirty dollars short on all his prom suit shit
I'm like, "I got you, cuz—that's the least that I could do"
He tell me, send him the addy, and he'll slide after school
I'm like, "Okay, bet," never knew where he stay at
He walk down the street, hella surprised—"This where y'all place at?
Uncle Carl, Auntie Deborah, my cousin 'Rina?"
And I'm surprised, too; my family knew, kept this a secret
Me and Cuz stayed down the street, living different lives
Every day, he on the bus; me, I get a ride
I gave him thirty on the porch, he never went inside
He tells me, "Thank you," then he walk back home with a smile
He tryna hide it, but I see his dimple
I'm thinking, "Damn, that transaction was simple"
I'm talking shit, I know he hoop, I'm like, "Ayy, where the rim, bro?"
He like, "Tomorrow, if you free—you prolly weak as shit, though"
I know my brother not, so all three of us went to the park and ran some niggas off the court
I'm hella passive, I was passing, I ain't have to score
The next day the prom; I couldn't sleep, I stayed up
My granddad gave me a condom, then walked away, didn't say nothing
She hopped out of a car and said that her name was Jada
My heart's racing, I'm focused, I'm tryna keep it player
Gave her the croissant or corsage or whatever the fuck
My mom handed me, and said, "Now put it on her hand, Malik"
Family ties, my grandfather taught me how to tie up a tie 'cause my dad lived in NY
That's prolly why I was shy, so self-conscious
Took pictures on the porch, and then we headed for the prom, and
Walter went on prom the same day, but to a different place
So he text me, like, "Cuz, this the spot, let's meet up later
And bring Jada through"; prom flashed, I kept it cool
We show up to the function—wait, she brought a change of clothes
I'm looking around, like, "Damn, I don't know nobody"
We at this party out west, and Jada left to get dressed
I fake like I'm sending texts; some stranger get really close
I swear that I hear his breath; then, he put a knife to my neck
Gave me the rundown like, "Jada my sister
And if you hit her, fuck her, make her miss you, I'ma kill you"
At this point, I'm just exhausted, wondering, "Where the fuck's Walter?"
He shows up like thirty minutes after our altercation
I never mention it to him, he kinda overprotective
And I know if I tell him that he'll beat this nigga's skull in
Turn his body a skeleton, and our night'll end terrible
I exhale and say, "Fuck it," and I just chose to let it go

[Part II: "KING"]

[Skit]
Fuck with your boy
Said you're used to getting everything your way
This not how that gon' happen this time
She tryna fuck with your boy

[Verse 1: Saba]
Walt went to St. Louis, had a full ride for his hoopin'
Him and his coach got into it; now, he back home doing music, ayy
I was at Columbia, a damn-near straight-A student
I had one B in a hip-hop class, I thought that shit was stupid
He transferred to Robert Morris, always live we down the street
My class let out at 2:40 and his class let out at 3:00
Mama asked me where the hell I been at, where the hell I be
"I'm with Walter, Ma, I'm safe," I keep walking in here late
I might fall off in your bae, I get girls now, I get laid
I get caught up all in Walter, I'm a product of my age
He talk to every girl downtown Chicago, wingman, I cannot fly though
He was in Cal-white Impala, he was that nigga in the party
Awfully popular for someone that they barely mention
Plus, we from the part of city that they barely mention
Just logged into Twitter, and somehow, we was barely mentioned
We signed our name on the open mic list, and then, they skipped us
And then, they skipped us again, like, a week later
Like, "Obviously, this fucking host can't read the paper"
Hella intimidating, a big guy, didn't have to flex
So Walter walked to the host and said, "This the name you callin' next"
Bullied our way to the stage and then overstayed our welcome
An apple never get too far from the tree that it fell from
Just like my father, tryna do music and hope I make it
Walter joined me for the journey, said, "The city waiting"
PIVOT

[Break: inaudible dialogue]

[Verse 2: Saba]
Walter invincible, dodged death like a mad magician
More times than a mathematician
I'm in L.A. working on Bucket List Project, I get a call and get a fishy feeling
Normally, Walt joke on the phone; this time, he over-serious
My heart dropping—I'm like, "Yo, what is it?"
He say he with T-Y on the highway, and some niggas just tried to kill him
Emptied the clip on the car, but somehow, they didn't hit him
Sometimes, I fucking hate Chicago 'cause I hate this feeling
Innocent niggas get shot at in the broad day, the a.m.
I asked him for a play-by-play of how their whole day went
He say he went to XSport and they ran a full-court
And I cannot retort without thinking that this can't be the reason
"So what else you do? What about Ty? Is he still cool?
Where you on your way from, and where you on your way to?"
He say he just left a dinner at a friend crib, and that's it
He say, "Ty don't do shit but smoke—honestly, Saba, that's it"
Give him sympathy, another case of mistaken identity
The news prolly gon' run this as two gangs from different streets
Police questioning him like he just shot at a trooper
My boy walked away unharmed, and we did Lollapalooza, yeah
Six months pass by: Every day, we celebrate; every day a better day
I just dropped Bucket List, Walt about to drop a tape
Everything going perfect, couldn't paint a better way
PIVOT Gang is on the way
We just sold out Lincoln Hall; then, I went to talk to Sway
I got back home and got back on it 'cause Walt was doing two-a-days
Sending me links to songs that he made
Kid Cudi, we are not riding no waves, ayy
Grandma made his plate, we played 2K, that's just a day before
Fatimah got a show tomorrow, he text me, "Ayy, we in that hoe"
I went to the barbershop the first thing the next morning
Then I got up with LEGIT—we supposed to do some recording
Ten minutes into the session, I got a call from a number
That I don't got saved, but I answer anyways; she says:
"Hello, Malik, have you or Squeak
Talked to my son today? He was just on the train"
We got in the car, but we didn't know where to drive to
Fuck it, wherever you are, my nigga, we'll come and find you

[Outro: John Walt]
Just another day in the ghetto
Oh, the streets bring sorrow
Can't get up today with their schedule
I just hope I make it 'til tomorrow
I just hope I make it 'til tomorrow—
I just hope I make it 'til tomorrow—
I just hope I make it 'til tomorrow—