It’s 3AM and I lay awake in my bed

I tread, carefully in the ‘scape of my own mind

Categorizing my thoughts hoping I don’t see red

but it’s so common that some could call it ancestry

And yet so layered that I might call it tapestry

Gannon Street or wait, is it Lane

Oof I’m so sorry you caught me losing my train

No i don’t got a gun but I now I done lost my aim, wait

Say, red ain’t my favourite colour, it’s actually blue

Perhaps it’s a backdrop for all the things that I do

Don’t put me in a box, you know I like black too

But they say it ain’t a colour, so maybe I don’t like the rules

Nah that ain’t true, they say I’m a good child

The type to not run wild

The type to hope that maybe I’ll walk down the right aisle

The type to hope that one day I would see him and smile

Or maybe I’d get bile rising up in my stomach

Somebody cuddle me I think I might need a hammock

Or Maybe I’d run and they start calling me Biles

And then they’d start calling me the wife who went wild

That’s crazy right

It’s just fear guys, Hah