Lyrically speaking, there are just a chosen few equipped for hanging with Mick, not to mention coordinating his easy swagger. “N***as lose medullas fucking with my shooters,” he cautions, “rappers lose emblems fucking with Chicago.” Say no more. While previous melodic patterns for sheer lyricism, Jenkins questions “Bruce Banner” with wit, punchlines, and a totally threatening stream; in some ways, he’s reminiscent here of a youthful Crooked I, just filled by a writer’s dread of death.
Doubtlessly “Bruce Banner” is a harbinger of another Mick Jenkins collection. While subtle elements are rare, Mick’s new single plays out like a mighty indication of who is genuinely in control; this one feels like an announcement, and if Mick keeps on meandering down this bearing, his prospective undertaking might be his best exertion so far.
Ya’ll n***as 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 traffickin’ truth
I’m adamant about the handle I got on this shit,
I patterned it after James Harden and James Patterson,
Don’t make me Alex Cross, cross, skip through that lane and change strategy
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