You said it was my fault I was unhappy

Sappy nappy headed girls only get to be snapped fingers and lingering silence

Only get to be jazz singer or jerry springer bringer of violence

Can’t be soft or tender defender fending off temper or justifiably cold inside a prideful December

Must be quiet, remember?

Must be tickle-able, lickable, thick

Light as feather fall, tetherball to biblical dick

Jesus christ you think everything you say is so holy

You fuck my black to make your plain mayo ass aioli

I bet you think you fucked the feminine into me

Made a lady of beast. took this sloppy bossy body

Made the godliest feast

It’s funny honey how you think you were my bumblest bee

When I mumbled through “ I love you”’s just to see if you’d see

I turn your tears into tequila drink my rum from the sea

I'm cross faded wavy wasted off the concept of me

Self love tastes like sorrel and ginger beer. coconut oil in kinky hair

Julie mango on beaches me and my bitches in kitchen chairs

Weaving freedom in braid, throwing peace to the waves, not a dream here delayed or made jaded

Not a nigga that could hold a candle up to our black

And you think I'm really waiting here for you to text back?

Nah. I'm in awe of the pedestal you think you’re on. i’ll break it down ‘case you can’t comprehend my lexicon

I don’t express my feelings

I fuck to keep my conscience clean

I sit and stare at ceilings

I can’t be bothered to love you

I'm a machine

Sorry that you dick didn’t cure my depression

You were lesson in the politics of passive aggression. you tried to lessen my by question my art and my passion

I bet you would’ve broke my heart if I had

But I been a bad boy been a burden been a bitch for awhile now

Thought that you could fix it with a smile and a high brow

Sorry to be human, some days this black girl magic is illusion

Some say I'm almost past it like a pump fake

Black as a rum cake

Looping my delusions

Funny how you tried to make cute of my confusion

Loved that I was broken, tokenizing emotion

Vocalizing my hurt just made me too outspoken

Ok, so say, I'm supposed to be open right?

But only at open mics. we killing the kindness if it’s minus the smoke lights?

I don’t express my feelings

I fuck to keep my conscience clean

I sit and stare at ceilings

I can’t be bothered to love you

I'm a machine

And no one asks the artist when the show is over

“hey are you okay or I was thinking you could use a shoulder”

Got a lot of drinking buddies, barely any homies sober

So sure I'm probably gonna die before the culture shifts

I spit that dark arts stinking of that sulfur shit

My legacy is voodoo. who do you think you are?

To feel big I bet you’d shrink a star or use a body as a harvest

Too bad I'm fire incarnate