When I open AP Magazine, I don’t get the comfort of seeing someone who looks like me
I keep another consciousness where I hide all of my secrets like “are my hands in my pockets?” when I walk in the store. And that’s just one example, I got a few more like when you lock your car doors, I can’t take it anymore. It eats me to the core
And thank you Mani for letting me sing this song
I think it’s funny, I feel this every day, you smile in my face, then drop that hard r, then type a paragraph about how it’s my fault, its not my fu*king fault you hate me
Keeping up with the race race, there’s always a ni**a that they wanna chase, for your body, your life, your hair, your style. fu*k it
I’m the black kid that you said talks white. I’m the black kid who minimizes just for you. You will never understand what it’s like, in every gas station, in everyone’s eyes