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letra de letter to god - mistah f.a.b.

[chorus]
prayin’ more than ever ’cause my soul really need it
wrote a letter to god, i’m just hopin’ that he read it
i’m just hopin’ that he read it
wrote a letter to god, i’m just hopin’ that he read it
prayin’ more than ever ’cause my soul really need it
wrote a letter to god, i’m just hopin’ that he see it
i’m just hopin’ that he see it
wrote a letter to god, i’m just hopin’ that he see it

[verse 1]
dear god, i know you’re tired of us askin’ whys and whens
but god, i’m tired of losing all my family and friends
hurricanes and floods, missiles tested with scuds
we stuck up in the bottom like you forgot about us
my daughter asked me the other day, “daddy, is you gonna die?”
i said, “we all gotta go baby, ain’t no reasonin’ why”
just find your purpose while you livin’, leave a legacy strong
never seen a man cry, ’til my daddy died in his bed and he gone
sometimes i wake up, thinkin’ that i heard my momma’s voice
but i know that i’m dreamin’, fightin’ reality bein’ poised
seem like my mind playin’ tricks on me, the devil, why don’t you quit homie
rest in peace to latasha, she used to turn tricks for me
when i thought i was a pimp, homie, but really just was lost
owe the universe some money, and i know that it’s gonna cost
cleanse my soul, tryin’ to pray away my sins, as i talk
crazy like kanye, in these yeezy’s, do jesus walk?

[verse 2]
if heaven was a ghetto, god, how would you react?
your momma and your daddy was all smokin’ on crack
your granny had to baby sit her kids’ kids, then them kids’ kids
it’s what it is kid, and i ain’t tryin’ to be a wiz kid
but god tell me, how would you feel?
if everybody that you loved was in jail or got k!lled
and you can hear your momma cryin’ in her room because of bills
but the phone bill remain high because your brother in a cell
collect calls, and this was way before global tech
before the, “if you like to accept this call”, y’all know the rest
it got me stressed, out of breath, runnin’ these steps
momma, daddy, granny, granddaddy, ain’t none of these left
but bless the child that hold his own right, show me your promise
barely p-ssed high school, so i ain’t goin’ to college
it’s either get a job or rob when you run with your partnas
would you be hustlin’ god, just to get a few dollars

[verse 3]
god, tell the pastor “stop lookin’ at us crazy”, like he don’t know us
like we ain’t the same little kids he watched grow up
on the corner, by the store, used to give us 50 cents for the soda
never thought the pastor would turn his back on us when we would get older
i said this world gettin’ colder, or better yet, it’s heatin’ up
and every day is a closer day to me and you god simply meetin’ up
and i can’t lie, in the ghetto, children feel like you be cheatin’ us
why we wasn’t blessed with the white house, picket fence, both parents greetin’ us
now i ain’t complainin’, ’cause this hand i got somebody won with it
got the game from my momma and daddy and i’ma run with it
and hopefully when it’s all said and done, and i’m done with it
my soul will finally be at rest, you can come get it
until then, i’ll be livin’ my dreams, makin’ it happen
with this label and clothin’ line, with this writin’ and rappin’
positive ill-strations, i want to make it from bein’ tragic
stayin’ in my own lane and never get caught in the traffic

- mistah f a b

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