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
The cage is not Maya Angelou’s
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?
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?
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?
What will you make of me?
What will you make of me?
Find more lyrics at westlyrics.com
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