Rosary

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Yimah

2:56

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Holding back on tracing and taking my time 
It's getting closer to what I think is mine 
External forces try and retort but it won't work 
Got the temple set up with the invisible shield 
I'm in here all alone trying to heal 
Nah man, you need to chill 
When meaning is lost it all gets so surreal 
Worrying about those bills 
Buying grills, taking more pills 
Free refills and cheap thrills 
You living on fucking a hill 
It's gonna take more skill to fulfill the will 
Trust me, I don't feel how you feel 
Just over here trying to eat 
All that covered and it'd be pretty fucking sweet 

Cops don't get love 
Not tryna lay low 
SJ's so cold 
Down with Pelosi 
Where all the hoes? 
There's not many more 
F*ck all the shows 
There's too many bros 
Not enough hoes 
Selling some mold 
How many's this sold? 
How many's this sold? 

(Huh? Yeah) 
Where my flower at? Where my flower go? 
Imma get her what she needs, imma get her that dough 
Imma bring the spring, imma light it up for growth 
Cuz once my poppy sings, bitch you already know 
I could flip her for the fiends 
Heroin, no control 
Cuz my flower takes a hold on your mind and your throat 
You can fight her, I'll provide her 
She can hit you in the dome 
Methylone is a no when my poppy's in your home 

Cops don't get love 
Not tryna lay low 
SJ's so cold 
Down with Pelosi 
Where all the hoes? 
There's not many more 
F*ck all the shows 
There's too many bros 
Not enough hoes 
Selling some mold 
How many's this sold? 
How many's this sold? 

Keep my name off your fucking tongue 
Lasted till donor gave lungs 
Breathing in your final valium 
Posse cackling as I sunder to run 
Know what's done is already done 
Told me to slow my roll but they rushing me 
Thought you wanted me this fast and anxious 
Type of dude to run up to you, f*ck up your facelift 
Never ask what the time is 
Look to racks for the tracker 
Cracker jacker offer me a bill 
Till I shutdown all but Bombadil 
Sat on nil without the trunk closed, hold still 
Supposed to pick a five with Atilla fingers 
Who won't think about hun but puss out, sound so shrill

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