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letra de the honest song - roman banks

[verse 1]
feel like no one seein’ the world through my eyes
like n0body gonna give a d-mn if they see me cry
broke the mask a while ago, it ain’t no reason to lie
unless i’m lying in my bed with my head to the sky
i’m more alone than i’ve ever been
and to be honest i can’t tell who’s my real friends
sometimes i wonder if it’s cause the color of my real skin
i ask myself if i was white would i blend in
i keep my hood up, wish i had nicer hair
sometimes i say things just to see if somebody care
hold my feelings in and mostly that’s because i’m scared
it’s hard to trust, you open up and they can see your fears
they can see your tears
they can see your truth
the pride, the l-st, all the walls and the anger too
i’m asking god what he think i should do
show my real self, they say “we want the fake you.”
“cause you act too straight, you believe in god, you should sip this drink
oh you don’t get high?”
i sit alone with my thoughts and they just walk on by
i know d-mn well they see me and still don’t say hi

[chorus]
and maybe it’s just me?
oh, maybe it’s just me?
and maybe it’s just me?
oh, maybe it’s just me…

[verse 2]
i get nervous when i hit grocery stores
i get a real warm feeling when i hold open doors for old white people and they thank me
cause the whole time i’m wonderin’ if they hate me
it’s terrible, but it’s my mindset
don’t need binoculars to find where all the signs at
i see confederate flags and i’m reminded that
one wrong move might get me where tray and mike at
mama send me texts warnin’ me bout what i post
sayin’ “remember where you are and who could read those.” (i need you to remember where you are)
like somebody gon’ read it and say “he’s one of those.”
like i gotta turn my black down for white folks
i know it’s only cause she love me, both she and my dad
they just don’t wanna see me end up as a hashtag
the fact they gotta worry ‘bout that stuff makes me sad
we take a step forward and another three back
i miss my people, i miss my people, i miss my house
i miss my brothers, and i miss my sisters, i miss my couch
i miss my kitchen, i miss soul food, miss all of that
still love it here but i don’t always feel the love back
don’t get me wrong, i love my skin, i love myself, i love being black
i love my teachers, love my art, i love the sound of claps
i love the progress, love the process, i love all of that
still love it here but i don’t always feel the love back

[chorus]
and maybe it’s just me?
oh, maybe it’s just me?
and maybe it’s just me?
oh, maybe it’s just me…

- roman banks

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