| Awakened from my slumber by the thunder, lightning clappin'
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| Rainin' on my window pane and praying I make something happen
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| A preacher’s prophecies never bothered me when I was younger
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| Sittin' on my grandma’s lap, and she cried, I often wondered
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| «What was her tears for? |
| Could it be for my grandfather?»
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| Or maybe she felt for me cause I’d see more of those cold tomorrows
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| Than she’d see. |
| The world would up and turn on me
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| Cause the morals that she often spoke were meant for 1923
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| I fall asleep off in her arms, a psalm was spoken
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| «The Lord is surely my shepherd"and «lead me to the water»
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| A thought that often stuck with me, amongst the wolves that run the streets
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| Out here payin' dues then lose, I pray your ways would comfort me
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| A non-believer I never have and never could be
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| Lord, give me time to peep the signs I should see
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| Sippin' got me feelin' like a player
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| Ridin' clean, bendin' corners, hopin' I might find my savior
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| On the curb, I rarely go to church
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| False prophets rockin' Prada so I rarely feel the Word
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| Jezebel’s lurkin' in the pews on the first
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| Preacher’s weaker than the deacon cause it’s hard to fight the urge
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| It’s hard to live and serve when you on the Devil’s turf
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| Sell your soul for the loan with no sense of what it’s worth
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| Don’t get it twisted, I ain’t no saint, I ain’t no pastor
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| But prayin' ain’t just for cloudy days and natural disasters
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| Aware of what comes after, bet you ain’t fo' sho'
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| I was warned that heaven ain’t the only place to go
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| I’m doin' what I can cause there really ain’t much time
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| I leave 'dis in the Lord' hands, I’m tired of cryin'
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| Man down!
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| Hopin', prayin', sayin' I can’t turn
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| Back now!
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| He will find you, this world’ll blind you, don’t you be another
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| Man down!
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| Hopin', prayin', sayin' you can’t turn
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| Back now!
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| Help is just one prayer away
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| Don’t be afraid to say,
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| «Mayday!»
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| Father forgive us for we know not what we do
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| In my bias, I’ve been pious with my nose up in the pews
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| Like Paul, I bear good news; |
| they think I’m pall-bearin'
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| My message sounds like death to these hearers as they perish
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| Scary to think we on the brink of death
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| But no one stops look for answers on what happens next
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| Got a couple scriptures from our grandma, sayings from a preacher
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| But can’t live out these standards that we heard it takes to reach 'em
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| But when I look at Jesus, He lived the life I couldn’t
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| Suffered for my crimes so I wouldn’t
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| I used to have to sneak into the movies 'cause I couldn’t 'ford to pay
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| So 'splain to me how some one paid my way
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| When I hear Krit confessin' I respect him
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| 'Cause most of us be lying like our lives don’t need perfectin'
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| Nothin' that we muster, Nothin' that we can change
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| Admitting that we’re imperfect, offendin' God with our games
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| Look, I’m just being honest so don’t take for me for no lame
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| I seen it fo' myself; |
| I’m a product of this thang
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| Now I found true religion, and it’s not inside of denim
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| And them overpriced shades has never given us vision |