I'm an emotional rollercoaster
With highs so high, could put Bol Bol on a poster
But when the bread get low like four loaves in a toaster
Or the shoulders can get cold as ten toes in Nova Scotia
Some days I hold a grudge, some days I Holy Ghost her
Some days I just ghost her, some days I'm supposed to
The crib feel like a gunfight, but them strollers, that's the holster
We can make amends over old memes and mimosas