tracers

I feel kinda jaded, can't make a song 'cause I instantly hate it

I need a baptist, I post no photos, I'd make you feel catfished

This is no hype track, this is a ballad

I'm on the back end tossing her salad

In the rearview mirror you see a ghost

She looks there as well and it makes her float

My girl can't keep it in

When we go in like the first track off Vespertine

Dick so good her phone's face recognition failed

And she forgot her password as well

I bash myself for spitting like this

I bash myself for not making hits