Mick Jenkins – Bruce Banner Lyrics

Bruce Banner Lyrics by Mick Jenkins

[Hook/Chorus]
I’m not a rapper, I’m a writer
It’s a couple chefs in this game, and a whole lotta’ biters
Fuck’s wrong with these niggas
Fuck’s to it
Fuck wrong wit’ ’em
Fuck’s to it
These niggas talker not walkers
The drive of Paul Walker, I got it
Can’t touch ’em, like, now that I’m sipping this Henny Hypnotic
F–k wrong wit’ ’em
F–k’s to it “uh!”

[Verse]
Honestly can’t nobody come for me ‘cept Kendrick
And I hope you offended, like it’s untrue
Don’t make me debunk your kung-fu
F–k up the whole Feng shui when we come through
They can’t hurt us
My s–t in Target, I’m Nate Burkus, they ain’t perfect
(?) walk out with the javeline
Ya’ll n—-s babbling about who the greatest and who after him
If intelligent discussion was dribbling, you’d be travelling
And I’d be somewhere Harlem Globetrot trafficking truth
I’m adamant about the handle I got on this s–t
I pattened it after James Harden and James Patterson
Don’t make me Alex Cross, cross ‘tween, skip through that lane and change strategy “uh!”
N—-s lose medullas, f—–g with my shooters
Rappers lose medallions f—–g with Chicago
So many n—-s hanging, they know Mr. Cooper
Police they are shooters
Then like bloopers, they gon’ play that s–t on T.V., ’til we Stevie to it
Say we can’t make them drink the water
I don’t know if we can lead ’em to it
I see the difference, I don’t see improvement

I see people that look like me that’s leeching to it
And apparently speaking on it is preaching to ’em
And apparently having opinions is tragic to mention, no matter intention
But only when you got blue checks and new checks and a few floors, more than a duplex
I’m too stressed for all this
Fifth-grade, b—h-made
Watch your mouth when you spit facts
U.F.O
I got the fire n—a
Heard ‘Soul album and I knew that I inspire n—-s greatly
Alex Hailey at the root of it all
My quest-for-love just wasn’t suited for ya’ll and my black thoughts won’t be muted or diluted
And living water can’t be polluted at all
Secluded I be, too many delusions I see when you speaking and you losing me
That’s your 15 minutes, you losing ’em
They draw their conclusions
I just be just disproving ’em, my ink hold weight
This paper hold heat like aluminum foil
Your correct in assuming the soil is fertile
I’m growing like weeds, I’m growing my weed
My shorty look like she come from where they growing ya’ll weave at
Ya’ll throwing shade, I three-man weave that
It’s been a one-man fast break, ya’ll ain’t even seen the team yet

[Hook/Chorus]
F–k wrong wit’ ’em
F–k’s to it
These n—-s talker not walkers
The drive of Paul Walker, I got it
Can’t touch ’em, like, now that I’m sipping this Henny Hypnotic
F–k wrong wit’ ’em
F–k’s to it “uh!”