Lyrics Reflection - Mick Jenkins
Hey,
how
is
it
going?
What's
up
man?
Put
a
mirror
in
a
nigga
face
and
he'll
run
Tell
him
that
you
love
him,
he
may
pull
out
his
gun
Look
just
like
me
even
down
to
the
guap
Noticed
the
difference
probably
soon
as
we
talk
I
do
not
politic
with
the
fools
Counterfeit
systems,
I'm
more
than
kind
of
bending
the
rules
Donavan
Mitchell,
I'm
definitely
finna
talk
all
this
jazz
Constantly
victim,
I'm
more
than
kind
of
hip
to
the
blues
That's
why
I
can
give
a
shit
'bout
the
news
Excel
despite
we
consciously
victim
These
niggas
like
to
strip
us
of
truth
Large
contradictions,
I'm
6'5"
tryna
fit
in
the
coupe
Large
contributions
to
culture
and
somewhere
someone
sitting
in
cubes
didn't
approve?
No
ice
cubes
in
my
Riesling
and
you
should
know
that
Wash
the
chicken
before
you
season
it,
you
should
know
that
That's
a
metaphor,
my
nigga
please
don't
get
caught
off
the
Prozac
out
here
nodding
off
I'm
out
here
getting
to
these
visions
I
was
plotting
on
I
window-shopped
it
then
I
copped
it
now
I
got
it
on
And
I
know
everything
that
came
before
that
dotted
line
these
days
Held
a
mirror
to
my
face
(who
you
think
you
talking
to
huh?)
I
didn't
run
away
I
ran
in
place
Put
a
mirror
in
a
nigga
face
and
he'll
run
Tell
him
that
you
love
him,
he
gon'
pull
out
his
gun
Look
just
like
me
even
down
to
the
walk
Noticed
the
difference
prolly
soon
as
we
talk
We
only
talk
about
ball
We
only
talk
once
a
year,
not
even
that,
I
don't
call
I
haven't
called
in
like
three
He's
6'2"
I'm
6'5",
he
used
to
make
me
feel
small
I
used
to
think
he
was
strong
now
I
know
he
just
weak
Got
me
climbing
a
mountain
it's
all
cliffs
and
no
peaks
I
was
slide,
hydroplaning,
it's
all
drifts
and
no
grip
It's
all
good,
don't
trip
I
used
say
that
with
tears
He
only
heard
with
his
ears
We
speak
with
more
than
our
lips
My
shoulders
Pringle,
no
chips
I
ain't
gon'
make
it,
nuff
said
One
day
I
didn't
get
upset
Some
shit
just
is
what
it
is
I
put
that
shit
on
my
kids
though,
I
can
not
go
out
the
same
That
carpal
tunnel
my
wrist,
I'm
way
too
deep
with
the
script
It's
paralyzing
in
fact
The
analyzing
the
facts
Calculating
the
trauma
to
iterate
it
on
wax
Fam,
if
it
wasn't
for
rap
This
shit
a
mirror
of
sorts,
got
me
seeing
myself
See
niggas
see
they
reflection
and
get
to
peeing
themselves
Them
untethered
connections
ain't
really
freeing
at
all
Cold
shoulders
I
just
pray
I
get
to
see
them
shits
thaw
Bulldozin'
through
the
haze
that's
why
it's
coming
so
raw
And
I
ain't
sorry
at
all
Put
a
mirror
in
a
nigga
face
and
he'll
run
Tell
him
that
you
love
him,
he
may
pull
out
his
gun
Look
just
like
me
even
down
to
the
walk
Noticed
the
difference
probably
soon
as
we
talk
I
remember
him,
Fact
Hey,
hey,
you
guys
talk
to
Becker
yet?
Yeah,
I
meet
him
I
remember
Fact
with
brother
Dennis,
they
used
to
coming
here
right
And
slide
a
couple
bottled
of
Gin
and
Coca
And
then
walk
right
out
One
day,
right,
Mr.
Lemon
right,
he
stood
me
all
day
up
like
I'm
nine,
10
years
old
I
walked
up
to
my
door
I
go,
I
go,
"Mr.
Kurt,
Mr.
Dennis"
I
say,
"Mr.
Lemon
I
want
to
talk
to
you
about
them
balls
at
Jin
Joe
bro"
Hey,
you
look
amigo
Who
do
you
think
you
talking
to,
huh?
You're
less
black
as
mine,
get-get
your
ass
of
this
corner
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