The Light

Mick JenkinsMick Jenkins 

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Mick Jenkins

Mick Jenkins is a hip hop artist known for his introspective and thought-provoking lyrics. Hailing from Chicago, Illinois, he gained recognition with his mixtape "The Water[s]" in 2014 and has since released several critically acclaimed albums such as "The Healing Component" and "Pieces of a Man." Jenkins' music often explores themes of identity, spirituality, and social issues, employing intricate wordplay and poetic storytelling. He is noted for his distinctive lyrical style and smooth, soulful production. more »

4:25

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Oh
It's a gnat in here
Get out of here gnat
Got something to tell me gnat?
Got something you want to tell me gnat?

Cuff my nuts
Place myself on house arrest, locked in
Judge, jury, bailiff, bet
When it rains I'm dry
Sun shines I'm wet
Push up demons f*ck it doing bout fifty-leven sets
Ignoring your texts 
Like sweet babies who cry in the church
Or if your partner got popped yesterday 
And school comes first
My favorite colors yellow maybe 'cause I'm mellow
And I got so much styles it's probably 'cause I'm ghetto
My mommy never cooked a Cosby dinner

And often times I took a L for Mrs. Winners
But I'm getting off the subject
Off the boat got my luggage but the quote
Pack light , starts to echo through my mind
So I'm rushing now, hushing now
Laid my suitcase down like prom night 
Zipped it open started pulling out 
Tossing memories
Socks, thoughts who pretend to be
Boxer briefs, pants, pictures of frenemies 
Killing me 
To make room, room, room, for the light

Lately I been sober
Chasing new highs
Cut the cord to my bungee
You can be yourself 
Don't be shy
Take your time don't you rush things

Thought I bought a Rollie but forget that I don't need it
Just let that holy water wash over my caesar 
Dressing like that Thursday in November
Know that they'll remember style
Boil it then let it simmer down
We blowing smoke between the breeze the twists are sengalese
No more Backwoods blown we ride the rings of memories
We wired the intricacies of our logic
No hands in my pocket
Still got my hand on my weapon
He more Malcolm than Martin 
A bit more Baldwin than both
You need a cauldron for mixing a black man's soul into soup
So many fish bowl can't cope
You cracking jokes 'bout the soap
We more concerned with the truth
You niggas burning the booth 
These niggas burning the wick at both ends
Fade to black I'm ghosting in the light
Lately I been waking up at night trying to beat the day
Over confident I can't be Issa Rae

To make room, room, room, for the light

Lately I been sober
Chasing new highs
Cut the cord to my bungee
You can be yourself 
Don't be shy (yeah)
Take your time don't you rush things

I know what I know 
But you heard what you heard 
So you poked your head in 
Got suspicion confirmed
Been on my feet for miles 
So my soul got some burn
Still its f*ck how you feel 
On my bottle of pills
If you can't hold me down
Then you don't get a turn
Yeah, yeah fame is less worse
Nothing sacred no more
Either take what you want 
Or you make what you earn
If I kill you I promise I'll pay for you first 
Like ooh
If you love me grease my scalp with this 380 in my lap 
Like ooh, yeah

What's the worst thing that could happen? (To make room, room) 
Use the answer to relapse (room for the light)

Lately I been sober
Chasing new highs
Cut the cord to my bungee
You can be yourself 
Don't be shy
Take your time don't you rush things

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