How many cardigans you killed for that cardigan skin coat
I cauterize tin foil to the top of my mental
Metal cap capping I seldom theorize kids shows
While coating nice lip balm to the inner line of my lungs
I've been imbibing the sun while wearing a one piece in it
And coughing blood on a canvas while claiming a monkey did it
Dead upon arrival and then shot for reassurance
My lifeless body's likeness was likely why it allured them
Regarding this pitch not really feeling ya
Hated my own skin as a kid because the media
Conditioned me to do so via no representation
Other than fetishization of deaths like negrophilia
Apparently existing and stemming from necrophilia
Put my ugly mug in the vacuum bag I was sealing up
Concealing all the meals from my cannibalistic field
Biting off rappers just to regurgitate like bulimia
Characterized by consequent class action law suits
You're not innocent the innocent ask what's blue waffle
Search and proceed to perceive it as
Something they should respond to
Not give it a blank stare like the thought of it's non-intrusive
If money talks then my money must be mute bitch
It doesn't say a thing as it breaks from the garbage chute's grip
It must be mad bout something cuz lately it's been aloof
And can't be passive aggressive while looking fondly at loose lips
Seemingly until you lose the paper and the purchase
And your savior makes you nervous
Oh she had a higher purpose
Like you isn't just an idiot nah you just being tested
Bitch you bought shit for attention in the midst of a procession
The rich getting richer
The poor get more cunning
Figure out guns are cheap resulting in more gunning
The more niggas we kill means more rap topics more money
More pastors and then the confessionals slowly get more funny like
I been there brother or
Relatable regardless
Of the acts resultant of the portrayal of races lawless
The manager dropped his cup and put his lips around the faucet
Now corporate dick sucking's his job because he lost his
If he could use the extra funds to buy a f*cking car again
Chances are he'd drive to the store and by a cardigan
And it no longer mattered if he ever passed the bar exam
Because he would be flayed with the cover up now a part of him
Composed by Charlotte Crosby (prod. Resting Blackface) Video (MV)
Resting Blackface - Composed by Charlotte Crosby (prod. Resting Blackface) Lyrics
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
How many cardigans you killed for that cardigan skin coat
I cauterize tin foil to the top of my mental
Metal cap capping I seldom theorize kids shows
While coating nice lip balm to the inner line of my lungs
I've been imbibing the sun while wearing a one piece in it
And coughing blood on a canvas while claiming a monkey did it
Dead upon arrival and then shot for reassurance
My lifeless body's likeness was likely why it allured them
Regarding this pitch not really feeling ya
Hated my own skin as a kid because the media
Conditioned me to do so via no representation
Other than fetishization of deaths like negrophilia
Apparently existing and stemming from necrophilia
Put my ugly mug in the vacuum bag I was sealing up
Concealing all the meals from my cannibalistic field
Biting off rappers just to regurgitate like bulimia
Characterized by consequent class action law suits
You're not innocent the innocent ask what's blue waffle
Search and proceed to perceive it as
Something they should respond to
Not give it a blank stare like the thought of it's non-intrusive
If money talks then my money must be mute bitch
It doesn't say a thing as it breaks from the garbage chute's grip
It must be mad bout something cuz lately it's been aloof
And can't be passive aggressive while looking fondly at loose lips
Seemingly until you lose the paper and the purchase
And your savior makes you nervous
Oh she had a higher purpose
Like you isn't just an idiot nah you just being tested
Bitch you bought shit for attention in the midst of a procession
The rich getting richer
The poor get more cunning
Figure out guns are cheap resulting in more gunning
The more niggas we kill means more rap topics more money
More pastors and then the confessionals slowly get more funny like
I been there brother or
Relatable regardless
Of the acts resultant of the portrayal of races lawless
The manager dropped his cup and put his lips around the faucet
Now corporate dick sucking's his job because he lost his
If he could use the extra funds to buy a f*cking car again
Chances are he'd drive to the store and by a cardigan
And it no longer mattered if he ever passed the bar exam
Because he would be flayed with the cover up now a part of him
I cauterize tin foil to the top of my mental
Metal cap capping I seldom theorize kids shows
While coating nice lip balm to the inner line of my lungs
I've been imbibing the sun while wearing a one piece in it
And coughing blood on a canvas while claiming a monkey did it
Dead upon arrival and then shot for reassurance
My lifeless body's likeness was likely why it allured them
Regarding this pitch not really feeling ya
Hated my own skin as a kid because the media
Conditioned me to do so via no representation
Other than fetishization of deaths like negrophilia
Apparently existing and stemming from necrophilia
Put my ugly mug in the vacuum bag I was sealing up
Concealing all the meals from my cannibalistic field
Biting off rappers just to regurgitate like bulimia
Characterized by consequent class action law suits
You're not innocent the innocent ask what's blue waffle
Search and proceed to perceive it as
Something they should respond to
Not give it a blank stare like the thought of it's non-intrusive
If money talks then my money must be mute bitch
It doesn't say a thing as it breaks from the garbage chute's grip
It must be mad bout something cuz lately it's been aloof
And can't be passive aggressive while looking fondly at loose lips
Seemingly until you lose the paper and the purchase
And your savior makes you nervous
Oh she had a higher purpose
Like you isn't just an idiot nah you just being tested
Bitch you bought shit for attention in the midst of a procession
The rich getting richer
The poor get more cunning
Figure out guns are cheap resulting in more gunning
The more niggas we kill means more rap topics more money
More pastors and then the confessionals slowly get more funny like
I been there brother or
Relatable regardless
Of the acts resultant of the portrayal of races lawless
The manager dropped his cup and put his lips around the faucet
Now corporate dick sucking's his job because he lost his
If he could use the extra funds to buy a f*cking car again
Chances are he'd drive to the store and by a cardigan
And it no longer mattered if he ever passed the bar exam
Because he would be flayed with the cover up now a part of him
Writer: Ryan Charles
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid