No Homo (But Like...Maybe)

It's not gay if our tips don't touch bro...

[Lyrics]

Yo. I kiss girls. I chop logs.
That dude smells like cedar and sin…
Whatever. I ain’t even lookin’. 👀

I bench trucks, eat nails for lunch,
Hug my bros real quick—no emotional punch.
Drink black coffee, punch drywall,
Only cried once... Magic Mike 2, y’all.

Yeah, I wear tight jeans—manly tight!
And I moisturize—'cause my skin’s just white.
That dude walked by and I flinched on cue,
But I just like his vibe... not his jawline too.

I mean—his gym gains. His form. Real stats.
Not like I’m into dudes… unless they do lats.

No homo, no way,
Just broin’ out in a super straight way.
No feelings, no sus,
Just wrote him a poem—pure friendship stuff.
No homo, swear on my reps,
I just saved his selfie... as my phone’s new text.

I watch football for tactics, not cheeks,
Those thighs in tights just caught me mid-sneak peek.
Said “Damn” out loud when he hit that curl,
But it’s science, bro. He’s a strong-ass girl.

Chillin’ with dudes, no strings, no shame,
He flexed, I gasped—reflex, not flame.
Told him “Nice pecs” once at brunch,
Then dropped my mimosa and did squats a bunch.

Look, I’m straight—just artsy as hell,
That candle-lit dinner? A prank, can't you tell?
He winked—I flinched—I blinked—I stared,
Then doodled his face on my arm… impaired.

No homo, no chance,
Just slap-boxin’ bros in a shirtless dance.
No vibes, no clues,
I only text “U up?” to my guy crew.
No homo, just gym heat,
Now scoot over bro, lemme warm my feet.

[Bridge – Whisper-rap: spiraling tone]
I Googled “How to not be gay overnight,”
Cleared my cache and cried all night.
Said his cologne hit different, bro,
Now I sniff hoodies at the end of the show.

[Final Verse – Rap, unraveling]
I’m straight, okay? Just... slightly confused.
Like, if he cuddles me—it’s platonic, dude.
He said, “You gay?” I laughed—then sighed,
Bit my lip and whispered, [whispered] “Only on the inside.”

[Final Chorus – Mock sentimental]
No homo… wait, maybe…
He kissed my neck and it kinda changed me.
No homo, or bi or pan,
Whatever it is… I’m his number one fan.
No homo… okay, I lied.
He just called me “babe”... and I damn near died.