Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Dear Mr. Christian , by - Derek Minor. Release date: 09.09.2013
Song language: English
Dear Mr. Christian |
| I was nine years old when daddy first touched me |
| At 15 I ran away and never stopped running |
| I met a man who took me in 'cuz I was pretty though |
| He said that you could make some money in my video |
| I get high and drunk just to make it through a show |
| And act like I’m enjoying it but really this is all a show |
| I feel degraded, purity obliterated |
| This is all I know and I really hate it |
| Mr. Minor are you listening? |
| I know that you’re a Christian |
| And got computer programs to block me from your vision |
| And every time you watch me you say that I’m the issue |
| Your pastor preaching about how not to let me catch you slipping |
| But maybe I’m a victim, maybe I’m just trapped in the system |
| And next time you pray maybe I might get a mention (please) |
| Before you talk about me remember that I’m lost |
| And your secret pleasure coming at a cost |
| Dear Mr. Christian, I know you’re on a mission |
| I know you say the answer to my problem is religion |
| I know I’m supposed to change the way I live and stop sinning |
| But I’d appreciate it if you take some time to listen |
| Dear Mr. Christian |
| Man I’m on that chronic |
| Higher than a comet |
| Sippin' gin and tonic |
| Drinking till I vomit |
| Tatted on my arms, tatted on my face |
| Pants hanging low, nina on my waist |
| I be slanging soft, plus I got that hard |
| Die for my hood, ride for my boulevard |
| I got love for my dogs but never for these girls |
| It’s M.O.E. |
| 'cuz money rule the world |
| But Mr. Dee-1, I grew up crummy |
| Saw my pops get killed in front of me |
| Saw my momma do dope in front of me |
| Felt like ain’t nobody love me |
| Uniform dirty, dressing bummy |
| Went to school they called me ugly |
| Caught the bus they used to jump me |
| God I just prayed to you Sunday |
| Now it’s Monday, I’m starving |
| Sip sour milk out of the carton |
| Talk to myself while I’m out walking should I put myself in a coffin? |
| I don’t know! |
| All I grew up with was trouble |
| Ain’t know no role model, I knew the struggle |
| Dear Mr. Christian, I know you’re on a mission |
| I know you say the answer to my problem is religion |
| I know I’m supposed to change the way I live and stop sinning |
| But I’d appreciate it if you take some time to listen |
| Dear Mr. Christian |
| Excuse me, I don’t quite understand you |
| Propaganda and banter and all of this empty chatter |
| And amidst these amens, hallelujahs, and shuck and jiving |
| I see a lot of hypocrites and hyper-criticizing |
| Mr. Lecrae my momma sold me up the river for some rocks |
| And daddy told me I was nothing but a problem |
| Now here you come telling me I’m a low down dirty sinner |
| And you got the nerve to wonder why I’m in these streets robbing? |
| Well go and get Batman, and go get back man |
| I don’t need to be judged by you and all of your wack friends |
| Ain’t gluttony a sin? |
| Why you staring at my gin? |
| Where I’m from we don’t pretend |
| We know we ain’t getting in |
| Now the world don’t trust me |
| And these streets done crushed me |
| Thought you were known for love but you just love to judge me |
| Truth is, ironically you need me around though |
| 'Cuz otherwise you got nobody else to look down on |
| Dear Mr. Christian, I know you’re on a mission |
| I know you say the answer to my problem is religion |
| I know I’m supposed to change the way I live and stop sinning |
| But I’d appreciate it if you take some time to listen |
| Dear Mr. Christian |