I look like good home training
Like a great night routine
Like mama built in me the right moisturizing habits
Cocoa butter, but fragrance-free Vaseline for your face
'Cause you can't be having all them chemicals up there
I look like "Yes, mama."
Like "Grand rising, king."
Like "What licks read?"
Like shiiii — I can't call it
Like "I'm tryna get like you."
I look like "On the dead homies."
Like "On mommas."
"On hood."
"On hotep."
"On me."
I look like grandmama's prayers
Like yard work when I was cuttin' up in school, like
Like "Take this over to Miss Johnson's and tell her thank you, and come right back."
I look like reused aluminum foil, like
I look like "Don't leave that Tupperware."
Like "You can't eat at everybody's house."
I look like "Lemme borrow your bike real quick."
Like fades had been given and received
Like Frankie Beverly come on — and all of a sudden, I'm my uncle, like
I look like I've been told a few times "I'm not one of your lil friends."
Like I know I should think before I speak
Like some of y'all ain't never sang in no youth choir — and it shows
I look like podcasts
Like NPR
Like college radio
Like Angela Davis
And UC Berkeley classes on the life and times of Tupac
Like my pantry is obnoxious
Like local-grown, black-owned
Farm-to-table, gluten-free
Like my cousin and 'nem made fun of me
I look like I accepted collect calls from various correctional facilities
I've put some things on the books
I look like plant dad
And freestyles about pyramids and quasars
Like "Don't ask me what I think about Marxism — we gon' be here all day."
I look like ancestors
Like Saturday morning cleaning sessions
Like "Nobody going anywhere till this house is spotless"
I look like, "Ask me what I look like if it ain't like what you just said."
If what you just said ain't sit right?
I look like intercessory prayer
I look like dropped-in fails and kickflip fiascos
Ol' lyrical miracle lookin'
Old talent show
Vacation Bible School
Ol' Musiq Soulchild with no-dreads headwrap lookin'
Ol' "Have you heard my mixtape?"
Old Sunkist
Capri Sun —
You kids drink Honest Juice pouches, right?
Ol' "Chant down Babylon"
Cloth tote bae
Patchouli shea butter
Che Guevara book rolled up in the back pocket lookin'
RIP Kobe lookin'
I look like I've lived a little
Say less than I know
I look like I been through some thangs —
'Cause I have
And I must say...
I look good
