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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Loyle Carner
Loyle Carner
Vocals
Tom Misch
Tom Misch
Programming
Diana Russell
Diana Russell
Speaker
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Tom Misch
Tom Misch
Composer
Benjamin Coyle-Larner
Benjamin Coyle-Larner
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Tom Misch
Tom Misch
Producer
Tim Montague
Tim Montague
Recording Engineer
Dan Parry
Dan Parry
Mixing Engineer
Nick Mills
Nick Mills
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Mike Bozzi
Mike Bozzi
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Face this
Like water, never taste this
Evil, white rose to a racist
They used to hype
'Cause my mother's face was white
And my fathers face blacker than
The scene outside the space ship
Flooded with rocks and jewels
Crystal shine and shimmer
He never let me use their words
Due time my jigga
Never called me ****
Said it's the master's tongue
But being black and white
There trouble never asked for none
But they all passed me some
Fuck it, I grabbed it
Both hands int he darkest sun
Scribbled till the parker's done
Grabbed another pen
And scribbled where the parker's spun
Followin' in footsteps of fathers that were asked to run
But not the one who wanted out so they disappear
All caught up in the fam and feelin' like they interfere
I'm thinkin' that my great grandfather
Could've owned my other one
And yo, that shit is weird
[Verse 2]
I'm lost (I am)
Wonderin' my cost (I am)
Tell it you were hurt (I am)
If you don't know your worth (That's it)
So we run form the maker, like sons in Jamaica
Heartbreak, breaker like the sun's an equator
We wasted it (Uh), before we even tasted it
[Verse 3]
Cities on fire
Uh, quite literally
The reason nobody's talkin' remains a mystery
My brother's lost, tellin' him do it differently
I wanna take the blame but we don't share the same history
I'm lost
Wonder my cost up in this place
Mixed race, colour of my face.
Feelin' misplaced
A waste
Ain't tryna tell you how my shit taste
Pack a couple days in this thin case, make a move
And write every day and night till I say the truth
Lose lookin' for some proof that I'm still in the news
You see, I got it all to lose, nothin' to prove
Promise the day I get paid, I'ma pay my dues
Uh, find the karma
Told me I'm from Ghana but really its Guyana
Uh, I'm Coyle Larner to Carner
The birth place of my father's father
I don't know the answer
[Verse 4]
I'm lost
Wonderin' my cost
Telling you it hurts
Uh, if you don't know your worth
Uh, and so we run from the maker, like sons in Jamaica
Heart bait, breaker in the dirt, whatever
Wasted it, before we even tasted it
Fuck
Written by: Benjamin Coyle-Larner, Tom Misch
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