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letra de vmp - closegood

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 d-ck
jesus christ you think everything you say is so holy
you f-ck my black to make your plain mayo -ss aioli
i bet you think you f-cked 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 b-mblest 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 b-tches in kitchen chairs
weaving freedom in braid, throwing peace to the waves, not a dream here delayed or made jaded
not a n-gg- 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 f-ck 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 d-ck didn’t cure my depression
you were lesson in the politics of p-ssive aggression. you tried to lessen my by question my art and my p-ssion
i bet you would’ve broke my heart if i had
but i been a bad boy been a burden been a b-tch 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 k!lling the kindness if it’s minus the smoke lights?

i don’t express my feelings
i f-ck 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 sh-t
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

- closegood

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