[Verse 1]
When you hide yourself, well that’s much too apparent
You still craft lies that you’re gonna tell your parents
Some of us don’t got those or a guardian
Boutta' couch surf after late nights partying
Triple digits heat but then you putting on a sweater
You ain’t aiming to be seen, you’re pulling strings and pulling levers
Image that you got of yourself has become distorted
And the tricks to get a fix at this point is just unrewarding
Where does the king of loneliness reside?
You’re too insistent, why you keep us mystified?
You aren’t ever like this, tell me what’s gotten into you?
Said it wouldn’t stop bruising purple with a hint of blue
Prepping the seclusion of your crushing insecurities
They’re hidden down below and there ain’t nothing, no emergency
Wouldn’t wish this even on the worst people
Your own North Star’s settled as a church steeple
[Chorus]
When you despise your own appearance, and you hate the looks you get
Stumble through in the interference, and you’re convinced you should be dead
I’m wholeheartedly stuck to a resolution of my new love
Dysmorphia, dysphoria, in memoriam, euphoria
[Interlude]
These cosmetic procedures are becoming so popular with teens, plastic surgeons have coined a new syndrome for it: “Snapchat Dysmorphia” with young patients wanting surgeries so they can look more like they do in filtered selfies
When you hide yourself, well that’s much too apparent
You still craft lies that you’re gonna tell your parents
Some of us don’t got those or a guardian
Boutta' couch surf after late nights partying
Triple digits heat but then you putting on a sweater
You ain’t aiming to be seen, you’re pulling strings and pulling levers
Image that you got of yourself has become distorted
And the tricks to get a fix at this point is just unrewarding
Where does the king of loneliness reside?
You’re too insistent, why you keep us mystified?
You aren’t ever like this, tell me what’s gotten into you?
Said it wouldn’t stop bruising purple with a hint of blue
Prepping the seclusion of your crushing insecurities
They’re hidden down below and there ain’t nothing, no emergency
Wouldn’t wish this even on the worst people
Your own North Star’s settled as a church steeple
[Chorus]
When you despise your own appearance, and you hate the looks you get
Stumble through in the interference, and you’re convinced you should be dead
I’m wholeheartedly stuck to a resolution of my new love
Dysmorphia, dysphoria, in memoriam, euphoria
[Interlude]
These cosmetic procedures are becoming so popular with teens, plastic surgeons have coined a new syndrome for it: “Snapchat Dysmorphia” with young patients wanting surgeries so they can look more like they do in filtered selfies
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