[Intro] Phone buzz. She looked at me. Said, “You wanna hear this shit?” Yeah. Read it. [Verse 1] Two-forty-seven, bedroom dark, rain drawing lines across the glass, Her phone lit up beside my arm, another nicka shooting trash. “Your man don’t treat you right.” She laughed. Kept reading. “Bet I could show you something better.” She looked over like, “This motherfucker really believe it.” I smiled, but jaw tight. She knew that look. Said, “Don’t start.” I said, “I ain’t starting shit.” She said, “Then listen with your heart.” She read: “I seen you out last weekend.” “Damn, you pretty when you smile.” “I know you got somebody, but relationships get tired.” She paused. Looked right at me. Said, “Want me to keep going?” Hell yeah. Because jealousy is weird. Sometimes pain wants proof even when the truth already showing. [Pre-Chorus] She said, “He don't know where I sleep. He don't know what makes me cry. He don't know who holds me when that strong shit in me dies. He knows pictures. You know me. So why you looking scared?” That right there shut me up. [Hook] She read it out loud right beside me in the bed. Every line he thought was smooth sounded stupid when she said it. She read it out loud. Said, “Baby, what you worried 'bout?” He was trying to get inside... whole time she was locking him out. She read it out loud. Every heart. Every lie. Every “leave that nicka.” Every “I can treat you right.” She read it out loud... and somehow the loudest thing was my insecurity that night. [Verse 2] He wrote: “Your man probably cheating.” She said, “Now this nicka funny.” Because last week she caught me smiling at some DM from somebody. Not cheating. But I ain't innocent enough to act like attention don't feel good. That's when the mirror turned around. Damn. Now we understood. I said, “Would you entertain him if we ever got real bad?” She said, “That question right there is why sometimes you make me mad. You always asking hypotheticals like happiness got expiration. Can we just enjoy what's real without rehearsing devastation?” That shit hit. Because I do that. Prepare for pain before it starts. Build exits in relationships then wonder why I'm guarded at the heart. She put her phone down, crawled closer, laid her head across my chest. Said, “I ain't saying trust me blindly. I'm saying judge me by my steps.” [Hook] She read it out loud right beside me in the bed. Every line he thought was smooth sounded stupid when she said it. She read it out loud. Said, “Baby, what you worried 'bout?” He was trying to get inside... whole time she was locking him out. She read it out loud. Every heart. Every lie. Every “leave that nicka.” Every “I can treat you right.” She read it out loud... and somehow the loudest thing was my insecurity that night. [Bridge] Truth don't always whisper. Sometimes truth put the phone right in your fucking hand. Sometimes love ain't proving that nobody wants your woman. Sometimes love is knowing plenty do... and she still chose her man. That's different. That's grown. That's scary too. Because control feels safer than admitting someone stays because they want you. Not because they have to. [Verse 3] Next morning he sent, “Good morning, beautiful.” She blocked him before breakfast. Didn't announce it. Didn't perform it. Just handled disrespect with less mess. I kissed her forehead, said, “I appreciate you being straight.” She said, “Good. Now don't make me prove my loyalty every time a thirsty man can't take a hint.” Fair. I laughed. Then she looked serious. Said, “You keep healing that part of you that thinks love always disappears.” I said, “You keep reading funny messages.” She said, “Boy, get the fuck outta here.” [Final Hook] She read it out loud. Now I'm hearing something new. It wasn't really about that nicka. It was about what fear can do. She read it out loud. Every message lost its power. Because real love don't get stolen in some fifteen-minute hour. She read it out loud. Then she put that phone away. Climbed back underneath the covers. Said, “You still taking me out Saturday?” Yeah. Hell yeah.
