Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Tune-Yards
Tune-Yards
Performer
Merrill Garbus
Merrill Garbus
Vocals
Nate Brenner
Nate Brenner
Bass Guitar
John Hill
John Hill
Sampler
Toni Hartley
Toni Hartley
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Merrill Garbus
Merrill Garbus
Songwriter
Nate Brenner
Nate Brenner
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Merrill Garbus
Merrill Garbus
Mixing Engineer
Nate Brenner
Nate Brenner
Mixing Engineer
Eli Crews
Eli Crews
Mixing Engineer
John Hill
John Hill
Engineer
Laura Sisk
Laura Sisk
Studio Personnel
Mark Allen Piccolo
Mark Allen Piccolo
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

Givin' up what you've got And what you are, you're simply not Aren't you tired of this game? And all the emptiness of your fame You can't hold tight to what you have Cause there is nothing there to grab Now life is a shadow of the butt You never did have what you thought you got I'm no real thing They say I'm the real thing (Oh no) I sound like the real thing (Oh no) Sing it real loud like the real thing Makin' 'em proud like the real thing (Lalala) I come from the land of slaves (Lalala) Let's go Redskins Let's go Braves (Lalala) You want the truth in tomes Dig this dirt and sift out the bones They said I'm the real thing (Oh no) I sound like the real thing (Oh no) Joke's on you All askew Heard my name in Timbuktu (Lalala) Now I got it All mangled (Lalala) Cut it out it's all tangled Star spangled Givin' up what you've got And what you are, you're simply not Aren't you tired of this game? And all the emptiness of your fame You can't hold tight to what you have Cause there is nothing there to grab Now life is a shadow of the butt You never did have what you thought you got Oh, I'm no real thing Water ain't water if water is wet (Oh no) Don't ever pay me I look good in debt (Oh no) Red, white, blue course through my veins Binge 'n purge the USA Why are you afraid about pants size ten? Humadum, rumadum They're chosen girls While you worry about chest size 6 They're winning the tricks Those tricks, those tricks, oh Just what is the real thing? (Oh no) Don't call my the real thing (Oh no) The search for the real thing (Oh no) The curse of the real thing Lalala I come from the land of shame Blood and guts are all I claim, singing Givin' up what you've got Aren't you tired of this game? You can't hold tight to what you've got You never did have what you thought you got Oh my god I use my lungs (Bless my lungs, bless my lungs) Soft and loud, anyway feels good (Bless my lungs, bless my lungs) Oh my heat up in my bones (Bless my lungs, bless my lungs) Perched atop my drumming flam (Bless my lungs, bless my lungs) Ate food that fed me (Bless my lungs) Seed planted itself in my stomach and bled me Read some words that led me Knee ache, skin leathery Put up a fight and you're my pride Swell, my fist right through a tube Glory, glory it's good to be me Ugly one be you, who you are Ugly one be you, who you are Ugly but pretty you're all ready It's complicated I'm a real thing Real thing
Writer(s): Merrill Garbus, Nathaniel Brenner Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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