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?