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Mandala

A mandala (Sanskrit: मण्डल, romanized: maṇḍala, lit. 'circle', [ˈmɐɳɖɐlɐ]) is a geometric configuration of symbols. In various spiritual traditions, mandalas may be employed for focusing attention of practitioners and adepts, as a spiritual guidance tool, for establishing a sacred space and as an aid to meditation and trance induction. In the Eastern religions of Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism and Shintoism it is used as a map representing deities, or specially in the case of Shintoism, paradises, kami or actual shrines.Mandala as an art form first appeared in Buddhist art that were produced in India during the first century B.C. In New Age, the mandala is a diagram, chart or geometric pattern that represents the cosmos metaphysically or symbolically; a time-mic… more »

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You want me to be what father?
Celibate? Oh no, no, no, no
I’ve got way too much hormonal activity going on
I would just feel too repressed
You could call me an incel
Sometimes it feels like I’m in hell
If you wonderin’ why, you can ask my dad
Why I’m so damn sad, like I’m in jail
Don’t give money, can’t get bailed
Ever since a kid I’ve been held hostage
I’ve been locked in this cell
'Cause my frickin' pops says it’s well
For me to stay ‘lone and single
Dang dang it’s a little painful
Like takin’ a chisel to your manhood
But I stay caged ‘cause the king’ll
Let me free when he wanna
So these chains gonna jingle for the time being
Til my name ring a bell and I might bring in
Thousand people to a show, every night even
They’ll be lined up in droves, all inside screaming
That is my feeling
So I’m willing to behave
'Cause I trust the plan he’s made
People marrying their hunnies
But I’m married to the game
People say that that’s insane
They don’t understand my lane
All they think about is boobs
I’ve just been rackin’ my brain
That’s why these rhymes how I get off (Uh-huh)
Not my time baby, get off (Aww)
They all wanna ride ‘fore I hit my stride
It must be the vibe that I give off (Yeahh)
So don’t even try that slick talk
I’m not interested in ya’ll
I’m too busy doing my thing
I’m keepin’ my... in my drawers
As I wallow in my sorrow, post a bikini pic chick?
You are gettin’ unfollowed, but tomorrow
Satan lurking on the gram
Offering all of the pictures just to hurt another man
All these females wanna crawl on me
Got me fallin’ like I’m Augustine
'Fore he walked into that garden
And he was involved in debauchery
Got a badonk like she Cardi B
And she be walkin’ erotically
Got to be against the law it seems
Like an Islamic State policy
This is the scene
Women around me, they ripping my jeans
All of ligaments being pulled in directions
I’m getting besieged, they’re really into my steez
Wait hold up a minute ‘cause this is obscene
How did my fantasies get all inside this rhyme book
Now I’m spitting them onto this beat?
What does it mean? That I’m encaged
In a bottle, detained, locked up in chains
Too much sex drive that I cannot contain
Urges come out in preposterous ways
Like when I jot on a page, ay
They won’t get out of my brain, ay
I think I want em to stay, ay
Please do not judge what I say, ay
I just wanna be loved, my daddy above
Don’t even care, I mean is he aware
How much it takes for me not to just stare
When a chick sends a pic to me in underwear
While she’s fiddlin’ her hair
Says that my lyrics are witty
She blares all of my songs
While she’s gettin’ prepared to get in the shower
And literally bare? This isn’t fair
But these rhymes how I get off
Not my time baby, get off
They all wanna ride ‘fore I hit my stride
It must be the vibe that I give off
So don’t even try that slick talk
I’m not interested in ya’ll
I’m too busy doing my thing
I’m keepin’ my... in my drawers

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