God’s Hands, Black & White

[Verse 1]
Half rasp in my throat
Whole world on my mind
Scroll screen, see smoke
Another mama cry
Color talk, same block
Same fear in our chests
Same dirt on our shoes
Same cross on our necks
Black hoodie, white tee
Brown hands, same grief
Judge skin, not soul
How we call that belief?
I been mad, I been prideful
Been that "ride if I ride too"
But I’m tired of the cycle
Devil laughing inside you
[Chorus]
Bigger picture in God’s hands
We all brothers in God’s plan (yeah)
Why we dying over gang, flag, pigment
When the grave don’t see that difference?
Bigger picture in God’s hands
All that hatred just quicksand
Why we fighting over dark and light
When the blood on the ground look the same red bright?
[Verse 2]
Grandma said, "Child, listen
You ain’t less, you ain’t more"
Told me Heaven ain’t split
Ain’t no color-coded door
On the yard, on the tier
See the toughest men break
See a killer say a prayer
See a racist lose faith
We all bleed, we all break
We all want one safe place
You see black, you see white
I see hurt in they face
I see sons, I see daughters
Caught up in dirty water
Preachers talk about love
But we copy the slaughter
[Chorus]
Bigger picture in God’s hands
We all brothers in God’s plan (all of us)
Why we dying over gang, flag, pigment
When the grave don’t see that difference?
Bigger picture in God’s hands
All that hatred just quicksand
Why we fighting over dark and light
When the blood on the ground look the same red bright?

rap, Moody trap beat with filtered piano loop and distant choir pad, swung hi-hats and knocking kick; male vocals half-rasped, half-spoken, with tight doubles on key punchlines. Hook widens with stacked harmonies and subtle bass slides, final chorus strips back to beat and raw vocal for a reflective close., hip hop