The Aftermath

THE AFTERMATH — Safire | Official Audio 🖤 🎀 SONG CREDITS Song: The Aftermath Artist: Safire Lyrics & Creative Direction: Safire ⚠️ Explicit Lyrics — Strong Language & Mature Themes ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ♡ OFFICIAL LYRICS ♡ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ [Intro] Everybody got a story about me. That’s funny. ’Cause everybody got a story, but nobody ever tells the part where I was the one holding shit together. Fuck it. Tell the whole story. [Verse 1] Found out I was pregnant, you had already dipped. Two jobs on my feet, still handling my shit. Baby growing inside me, fear sitting in my chest. I was building her a life while barely getting rest. Doctor told me stop working, still had mouths I had to feed. You ain’t bond with your daughter while she grew inside of me. Said that shit was unnecessary— That shit did something to me. I wanted God in my house. I wanted vows and a ring. You ain’t believe in either. We ain’t want the same things. But somehow your people got the nerve to question me? “You don’t know a good man.” Bitch, respectfully— What the fuck you mean? [Hook] Everybody got opinions on me, but everybody benefiting from me. Take everything I give, then tell me I’m the problem? That’s wild. If I’m everything you say I am, why the fuck you still need mine? [Verse 2] Let’s talk facts since apparently I’m immature. Who was paying all the bills while you walked through my door? Who was driving you around? Who let you use her car? Who considered moving states so you could be a father? Not to my son. Nah. You made that shit clear. Said you don’t give a fuck about his well-being, and you think I ain’t hear? You think HE ain’t feel that? That’s a child you let attach. Now I’m watching him get hurt while I clean up your aftermath. I’m supposed to lose myself just to prove I can “handle a man”? I don’t need to handle shit. I need a man that handles his. Ain’t no prize in raising grown men when I already got kids. And since everybody wanna talk about family… let’s talk about family. [Verse 3] I opened up MY HOME when your family needed help. Put my household on the line while barely holding myself. Didn’t have to help foster shit. Didn’t have to say yes. But that’s the kind of woman I am— give while I’m fucking stressed. Then you benefit from my heart, turn around and call it weakness. Benefit from my kindness, then disrespect me like you don’t need it. If I’m so fucking immature, why the fuck am I carrying everything? Answer that. [Hook] Everybody got opinions on me, but everybody benefiting from me. My house. My ride. My money. My time. Take everything I give, then tell me I’m the problem? That’s wild. If I’m everything you say I am, why the fuck you still need mine? [Verse 4] There was a night I almost wasn’t here. That’s the part nobody knows. Pregnant. Scared. Thinking— I gotta do this shit alone? Again? That word hits different when you already know the road. I was breaking fucking down, still making sure it never showed. Had a baby growing in me. Had another child needing Mom. Had bills sitting on the table. Had to somehow carry on. So don’t tell me I’m incapable. You don’t know what I survived. You saw the woman giving everything. You didn’t see what fucking died inside of me… every time I chose somebody else instead of choosing me. But I’m still here. That’s the difference. [Final Verse] I’m the bitch that’ll give you my shirt, then freeze without it and you’ll wear that motherfucker while telling people shit about me. That’s crazy. Nah. That’s actually fucking crazy. I gave grace when I was angry. Gave a home when I wanted space. Gave rides when I was exhausted. Still had kindness in my face. Almost rearranged my whole fucking life so YOU could be near your son. But tell your mama I’m incapable. Tell her everything I’ve done. Don’t cherry-pick the ugly parts and leave my sacrifices out. Don’t tell people how I reacted without saying what brought it out. Don’t talk about the screaming and ignore what made me snap. Don’t point at every wound I got and act like you ain’t add to that. I ain’t perfect. Never said it. But don’t confuse a woman’s breaking point with who the fuck she really is. I wanted God. I wanted marriage. I wanted something real. You wanted me to bend my standards just to make YOU comfortable still. And I did enough bending. Enough carrying. Enough saving. Enough explaining. Enough giving people everything in me just to hear I’m the problem when I finally stop giving. ‘Cause if I’m such a fucking problem… stop benefiting from me. Stop benefiting from me. You don’t get my heart and disrespect me. You don’t get my home and reject me. You don’t get my love then correct me. If I’m everything you say I am stop benefiting from me. [Outro] Call me difficult. Call me immature. Call me whatever helps you sleep at night. Just don’t call me next time you need some shit. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ♡ Thank you for listening and supporting my music.