Letter To God

Lord… it’s me again, sittin’ on this porch with my pen,

South Side wind hittin’ my face,

Just tryna talk to You real, no mask, no frontin’, no pretend.

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This my letter to God, hope it reach through the sky,

All the pain, all the tears, all the questions I cry.

From the gutter to the grace, from the lows to the highs,

Lord, I’m writin’ You this letter — only You know why.

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Dear God… they told me don’t question Your plans,

But how many funerals I gotta watch with folded hands?

Why the good die young while the wicked still stand,

And the system set the trap just to bury my fam?

I seen mamas on the block prayin’ candles stay lit,

I seen shorties lose they soul before they ever commit.

Tryna dodge every demon, but the streets never quit,

So I put it in this letter hopin’ heaven won’t miss.

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This my letter to God, hope it reach through the sky,

All the pain, all the tears, all the questions I cry.

From the gutter to the grace, from the lows to the highs,

Lord, I’m writin’ You this letter — only You know why.

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South Side soldier, baptized in the fire,

City taught me how to hustle, how to dream, how to tire.

I been drownin’ in my sins, tryna climb out the wire,

But I know You hear my cry every time I inquire.

Why the opps get rich, while my homies get chalk?

Why the judge slam the gavel, like our freedom ain’t naught?

Why the church stay silent when the hood wanna talk?

So I write You these bars, every line is my walk.

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This my letter to God, hope it reach through the sky,

All the pain, all the tears, all the questions I cry.

From the gutter to the grace, from the lows to the highs,

Lord, I’m writin’ You this letter — only You know why.

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God, I ain’t perfect, I been reckless, I been lost,

But Your mercy paid my bail when I couldn’t pay the cost.

I done slipped, I done tripped, I done carried my cross,

But I still keep my faith through the pain and the loss.

So if You hear me, don’t let my people drown,

Let the angels walk the blocks where the gunshots sound.

Turn Chi-Town pain into Chi-Town crowns,

Make the holy hit the hood, let Your glory come down.

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This ain’t just rap, this survival in ink,

A porchlight prayer on the edge of the brink.

If my letter touch the heavens, Lord, give me a sign,

That the streets still got hope, that my soul still shine.

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This my letter to God, hope it reach through the sky,

All the pain, all the tears, all the questions I cry.

From the gutter to the grace, from the lows to the highs,

Lord, I’m writin’ You this letter — only You know why.

Letter to God…

Only You know why…

Only You…