Lyrics
Now my hair smells like smoke
Something's burning, I don't know what it is
I won't laugh at your dumbass jokes, white boy
I don't owe you anything
I am learning not to sing for you
Your cage is not Maya Angelou's, white boy
You've still got a grip on me
Sword to hilt, hand to God
Bring me to my knees
If I stand down, if I bleed
If I am what you ask me to be
White boy, what will you make of me?
Passion play, almost biblical
White girl arrives, I turn invisible
I don't like who I am to you, white boy
Trance state, you're hypnotic
Twirl my hair, watch my voice jump the octave
I don't like who I am for you, white boy
But you've still got a grip on me
Sword to hilt, hand to God
Bring me to my knees
If I stand down, if I bleed
If I am what you ask me to be
White boy, what will you make of me?
You've still got a grip on me
Sword to hilt, hand to God
Bring me to my knees
If I stand down, if I bleed
If I am what you ask me to be
White boy, what will you make of me?
What will you make of me?
What will you make of me?
Columbus III Smith, Doc Allison, Jensen Paige McRae
RIBCAGE CARNIVAL, Songtrust Ave, Universal Music Publishing Group