Текст песни White Boy

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?