Reflection

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