Reflection Songtext
von 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