I bumped into Loon, he like ‘Well, As Salaam-Alaikum.’
You know I ain’t Muslim, my nigga, I’m about my bacon!
Ma$e, “Higher,” from Kanye West Presents G.O.O.D. Music: Cruel Summer, 2012
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I wonder, who do you believe in? I know it ain’t me,
I hope it ain’t a priest, or who you seen on TV.
I hope it ain’t your poppa, potna, he only raised you.
And I know it ain’t your mom, even though that’s who you came through…
…And Sunday’s the one day I rest, give thanks, and bless.
They say the good die young, so the bad die old.
Guess we somewhere in the middle, so just pray for my soul.
I just need the junkies and the liars and the thieves,
I need the pimps, prostitutes and pushers out in the streets.
That’s where I’m seeking God, cause that’s where He found me.
They tell me ‘find God’ like I don’t know where He at.
And if He lost, then why we followin’ Him?
Just acknowledge the fact that a Father exists,
And a Devil’s alive…I’m just caught in the mix.
You say you wanna be my leader?
I think you wanna be my God.
You say you on the side of the righteous?
I say I’m gonna hang with the wrong.
There’s truth where the filth is,
There’s lies in the law.
You want a whore with a white dress,
I want a wife in a thong.
God really exists, I tell you like this:
It resides inside.
And anybody tell you different,
Just selling you religion,
Tryin’ to keep your ass in line.
Science only answers ‘How?’
Religion only answers ‘Why?’
The two combined is the true design,
So respect to God cause He drew the lines.
They say ‘Love Jesus’ and ‘Listen to your pastor,’
But Jesus told the truth, and the pastor’s a lying bastard.
All he talk about is economic elevation,
And all Jesus talked about was soul salvation.
Jesus sat with the sick and he walked with the poor,
If He gave blood for our sins, why we giving more?
I got some Gangster Disciples at church with me tonight,
With five dollars worth of gas, and a matchbook to light.
White Jesus in my crock pot,
I mix the shit with some soda.
Now Black Jesus turn water to wine,
…And all I had to do was turn the stove up.
Believers of Jesus be denouncing Satan on every level,
But every Halloween they’re dressin’ like devils.
Feeling mad hostile, wearing Aéropostale,
Flowing like Christ when I speaks the gospel.
Be a king? Think not.
Why be a king when you can be a God?
We missed a lot of church, so the music is our confessional.
I wish I didn’t get searched when I come through customs.
I wish Christians stop beefin’ with Muslims,
Wish the poor didn’t have to take welfare,
Wish America had universal health care…
Cause ain’t no help here.
I thank the Lord for every morning he allows me to rise,
And though the sun is shining, there’s a cloud in the sky
Lettin’ me know that at any moment there could be rain.
And as beautiful as life is, there still can be pain.
Down the park, I hear the sirens, just screamin’ away,
And then the inevitable happens, the end of them days,
As sad as it sounds, but that’s the price we all gotta pay.
And the whole world knows God giveth, and will taketh away.
I live and I learn, I sit and watch my cigarette burn
Down to the ash. It reminds me of the now and the past.
I say a little prayer, cause eventually I’ll stand in the path
Of the souls and dark rows that lead to rest.
Why is the sky blue? Why is water wet?
Why did Judas rat to the Romans while Jesus slept?