Lyrics to 6ft Middle-Age American Man
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la, uh, uh
Raptor murdered out in black
Propaganda on the back
Freedom on my vanity plates
Full of bricks I'm gonna haul
Building up a border wall
To keep out all the spics and the gays
'Cause I'm a six-foot, middle-age American man
My Jesus wore a frown and a red ball cap
Raising my children not to question that
Just like my daddy and his before
Drivin' through an In-N-Out
Post a picture, workin' out
Rappin' Yeezy louder than hell (Or Ye)
Lock my doors when food arrives
Just 'cause he's a colored guy
A Muslim, but I can't really tell
(I can see that someone, someone's on the way)
'Cause I'm a six-foot, middle-age American man
My daughter's gonna pack a pistol in her backpack
Raising my children not to question that (Don't)
Just like my daddy and his before
Oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh
Ooh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh
Woah-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh
Woah-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh
Tissues, tissues for Daddy issues (Come on, come on, oh, baby)
I got tissues, I got tissues for your Daddy issues (Bridges are for pussies' backs)
'Cause I'm a six-foot, middle-age American man
Goin' through divorce 'cause she likes to talk back
She left me for a drummer, yeah, imagine that, ha
Just like my daddy's and his before
Woah-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh
Woah-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh
Woah-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
La-la-la-la, uh, uh
Raptor murdered out in black
Propaganda on the back
Freedom on my vanity plates
Full of bricks I'm gonna haul
Building up a border wall
To keep out all the spics and the gays
'Cause I'm a six-foot, middle-age American man
My Jesus wore a frown and a red ball cap
Raising my children not to question that
Just like my daddy and his before
Drivin' through an In-N-Out
Post a picture, workin' out
Rappin' Yeezy louder than hell (Or Ye)
Lock my doors when food arrives
Just 'cause he's a colored guy
A Muslim, but I can't really tell
(I can see that someone, someone's on the way)
'Cause I'm a six-foot, middle-age American man
My daughter's gonna pack a pistol in her backpack
Raising my children not to question that (Don't)
Just like my daddy and his before
Oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh
Ooh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh
Woah-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh
Woah-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh
Tissues, tissues for Daddy issues (Come on, come on, oh, baby)
I got tissues, I got tissues for your Daddy issues (Bridges are for pussies' backs)
'Cause I'm a six-foot, middle-age American man
Goin' through divorce 'cause she likes to talk back
She left me for a drummer, yeah, imagine that, ha
Just like my daddy's and his before
Woah-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh
Woah-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh
Woah-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh