Mirror

Tired of sick and tired swing the sickle like I’m grim Looking in the mirror for creation I am them same as all in below relation so above and I ain’t even building on the rim These hymns on the water that we was wading through they had us landlocked couldn’t swim in them city pools You lost it but turn back on like working faucets I swear mom dukes was lowkey auset That’s bigger pressure levers we pull often My namesake Man of victory So even when I fail by that measure god, it’s supreme You was searching box logos nigga I was free