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