Reflection - Mick Jenkins

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 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 could 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 windowshopped 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 probably 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 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 reflections 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

Bulldozing 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