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Creator Video (MV)




Performed By: Evan
Length: 3:24
Written by: Evan Harris




Evan - Creator Lyrics




Don't question my faith, I'll start with that
He got me so woke, you don't know where I'm at
I Am aware that God is the I Am, and I know that I Am not, or Am I
"God" backwards, I am not a dog, either
Middle class black man, high wealth meter
FDA tryna kill me with the egg beater
Get me mad, stand back, I'm a maneater
Watch out, watch out, watch out
Creator, help me out
I keep forgetting that like me, You're on Your own Time
Reason my heart and soul howl like a broken wind chime

I'm a King without his subjects
I really wish the ones close to me would check up
How would they know that all I really need is "must rest"
When I try to get in the club, dressed in my best
Can't even believe it when mom says women want me best
I can't even be nice before they thinking I'm eyeing they chest
I kinda get it, though; no girl wanna date me
And their options are either bad, lame or crazy
Haunted by times when I thought women had hated me
Ain't gotta say it, bro. I know it's amazing

Chained to the bed by my own anxiety
Despite alcohol and drug sobriety
Lord, I'm having trouble making choices for myself
And nothing eases, appeases or pays mind to my pleases
Jesus, were You ever this kind of ill
I know those things happened years ago, I feel it still
I remember the fact that You gave me Your job
I'm a creator myself; peep daddy's door knob
I said I'm a vessel, but Satan has turned me into vases
Full of darkness and hatred, and bloody, racist cases
Should I be trying to be like Kylo or Darth Vader
Why be a king when you're a creator

Double ending
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Don't question my faith, I'll start with that
He got me so woke, you don't know where I'm at
I Am aware that God is the I Am, and I know that I Am not, or Am I
"God" backwards, I am not a dog, either
Middle class black man, high wealth meter
FDA tryna kill me with the egg beater
Get me mad, stand back, I'm a maneater
Watch out, watch out, watch out
Creator, help me out
I keep forgetting that like me, You're on Your own Time
Reason my heart and soul howl like a broken wind chime

I'm a King without his subjects
I really wish the ones close to me would check up
How would they know that all I really need is "must rest"
When I try to get in the club, dressed in my best
Can't even believe it when mom says women want me best
I can't even be nice before they thinking I'm eyeing they chest
I kinda get it, though; no girl wanna date me
And their options are either bad, lame or crazy
Haunted by times when I thought women had hated me
Ain't gotta say it, bro. I know it's amazing

Chained to the bed by my own anxiety
Despite alcohol and drug sobriety
Lord, I'm having trouble making choices for myself
And nothing eases, appeases or pays mind to my pleases
Jesus, were You ever this kind of ill
I know those things happened years ago, I feel it still
I remember the fact that You gave me Your job
I'm a creator myself; peep daddy's door knob
I said I'm a vessel, but Satan has turned me into vases
Full of darkness and hatred, and bloody, racist cases
Should I be trying to be like Kylo or Darth Vader
Why be a king when you're a creator

Double ending
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Evan Harris
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Back to: Evan

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