Via April 2017 | Page 12

Footnotes to Kanye

Mr. West, You look hungry

Like that girl don't make you no fried chicken or macaroni & cheese.

Like she don't feel you on the inside.

Like you haven't had a home cooked meal since your mama died.

You look like you lost the song in your own song.

Like you want to talk to God, but you're afraid.

Because y'all ain't spoke in so long?

Do you tell your daughter about me? How we were bittersweet?

To never mess with entertainers because they always leave?

That he'll get on and he'll leave your ass for a white girl.

And he'll give her your style, your language, your waist.

Damn near try to give her your face.

And somewhere in this post-traumatic twisted fantasy he makes it all okay.

But what's the worth in loving a man who's lost his smile anyway?

When Kim fucks up the lyrics of the College Dropout,

Like them white folks used to fuck up your name,

Do you pretend not to notice?

Do you regret the Marilyn Monroe in your decision?

And wish that you could've taken Billie Holiday as your bride?

Do you ever want to run back to your wedding day,

and have it all over on the south side?

Do you wake up in the middle of the night,

and just think that she wasn't the right girl,

Like you should've found one of them "I like art" type girls?

Can you hear all the Black kids calling your name?

Wondering why the boy who rapped about his mama getting arrested for the sit-ins didn't sit in, and why he traded in his Nat Turner for Ralph Lauren.

Do you know how many kids at the protests had your sneakers on?

None of them.

Do you know how many of your songs were played at the protests?

All of them.