This is a song about "Holy bandz"

Most of us some holy bowlers,

Two baby mamas, 3 kids, two rovers

I'm the dream catcher but nothing but nightmares i caught, go to sleep

It's him, it's me, the one holy, prodigy stashing keys like secrete

They gotta point em out baby

I'm formin holy wars around me

Targeting drones looking for holy bones

Right next to the fat lady hitting high notes

Washing these holy lands in their heathen blood,

And the governor couldn’t give one fuck

Holy cross attached to the staff i can spear it.

Until she came trench coat and a thong and shit

And i got them gold bottles, first place

I call it my holy grace

Every word i spit is holy

If you don’t recognize, you gon’ see