Outro

[Intro: Benjamin Earl Turner] Let's...get out of here [Verse 1: Saba] I had a dream about a mountain and a unicorn Put it in a manifesto like the Unibomb Sign my papers Saba as a pseudonym Impregnating the present and you the mom Maternity with eternity Got life popped off like a kernel be [?] is just a summer me And bodies wrapped up like summaries Pen bleep bap, proper funeral attire Uniform going ghost like [?] [?] all my niggas were divided And blinded like incisions in eyelids They off the loud, I get high off the silence Food for thought, I feast, y'all diet And then die young But I say "you are the future," like psychics Got your back like sidekicks when I spit Therefore remember me like titans Cause I'm a typhoon, you a typo Backspace with a tight flow With my brother like Lionel With a light 'fro, bring light like Bibles I spread word like the Christians But mine ain't religious Still healing, hear me though, hear the flow It's good for the heart like Cheerio That shit milky if you don't know World on my shoulder, got me feeling like Bono Used to hit the Bone flow, conjure up some new shit Whips on our back with the city on the crucifix Dog niggas move units like Whoo Kid Dog niggas move units, I kid you not like you miscarry And they married to the candle like Mrs. Kerry No mystery, we all know, y'all know 5-0 tryna spot niggas like Waldo Harpo, come through like we royal Come through like we royal, aluminum foil Aluminum foil in the mouth to show he ain't got no fillings And he just fell in love, and she ain't catch no feelings Fuck is that, bucket boys, bucket hat, like it's cuffing, but in fact [Conversation: Saba and (Benjamin Earl Turner)] That's the part where I don't remember that shit, but that was the cadence of it, "bucket that, bucket that, bucket back, like it's but to be, but in fact..." ('Bout to be rough as...bout to be rough right? yeah cause I..., whatever...yeah ) [Verse 2: Benjamin Earl Turner] A California king that's not to be slept on Best writer, I'm alive but write ghost songs Posthumous concoction Classic Casablanca Cosmic conscience Catastrophic consequences, condom wrappers Condom wrappers, raw though Look me in the eyes see a star in the brown glow Listen to me rap, this the sound of a light show Don't slow unless [?] says "Hold up" Go with your gut or gut getting holed up Worst pains heartburn or a brain-freeze Not literally, more literary I'm a small library into my world Quiet down learn something, earn something I heard some shepherd that'll heal lepers lecture Real rap feel that texture Take breaths cause I'm human, I'm sick of consuming Critics takes shots and I tell them keep zooming Brewing them coffee I'm black I'm pursuing the queen of my life And if you jeopardize you gon' look in the eyes of the rookie [?] and got blade for a tongue On a slice til you cut like a [?] Low self esteem Knew I was goat 'fore I knew I was sheep Knew I was lion 'fore I could speak Knew I was, I am, therefore I will be I knew I never really needed man's accolades Christ pat me on the back, that's God's praise Yo god prays, me so prophet The corporation and conglomerate tryna get their hands on the [?] Ain't it obvious? [?] mountains and the sea Speak a nigga up, a nigga might cease to be Speak a human up, a human might sprout wings Curse a corporation, [?] Tryna offer me a [?] just to speak victory Christian, Muslim, Hindu, Heathen, Jew, Buddhu [?] upbringing [?] Only prove me right, like reading Spending my nights with my nose in the folds of the Satanic verses Pop curses, like mollies Sweat blessings, when my tongue run I take a [?] son give him operas Now I'm right here, phantom of the Oscar Spit that high octane spirit flame, el duende F. Garcia, Laura could split his soul, horcrux And a realigned chakra Mom said I better lead like Chaka Pop said kick rhyme to the blind, take shots as you go She a sports buff so I just equate it all to soccer uh [Outro: Benjamin Earl Turner] I don't know. I don't know. That shit was fucked up, but it's- it's super raw. It's like, but this, but this is Yell Pretty. This is what it means bruh, to like embrace your life with whatever. Whatever it is, you know what I mean? Like, I don't got perfect anything for nobody. You know? I don't got perfect songs all the time. I don't got perfect cadences. I don't got perfect answers. I don't got perfect behavior for nobody. So, I mean, It'd be nice. It would be nice, like, um you know, but i don't know, it's it's it's it's art man. This shit art, right? Yell pretty