Imagine Songtext
von Big Petey

Picture God a black teen raised in the hood

Mother was a crack fiend, pops was no good
Imagine him a young boy tryna be a man

Toying with a system that he doesn′t understand
Holding in one hand all the teachings of the Bible
In another a plan necessary for survival
Every hood idol in the streets doing crime
Ain't nobody with a title tryna walk a straight line
His nana say the Lord hate those selling drugs
But everybody with cake is the hustlers and thugs
He′s never seen God punish them for they sins
Unless he disciplines in the form of a Benz

Life through the lens of a ordinary nigga
Witnessed by none bigger, an extraordinary figure
How would he maintain in a world of dysfunction?
To think he'd do the same is a logical assumption


Imagine if God existed among us
Grew up around gangs in a neighborhood that's rough
His mom smoked pot, and his pops in the pen
Got harassed by cops ′cause the color of his skin
Would he find sin in the way we survive?
I come to the field, I′ll fight to stay alive
Would he find sin in the way we survive?
I come to the field, I'll fight to stay alive

Can you picture God growing up with self-hatred?
Taught he looked odd by the children of the matrix

Racist America made him hate what he seeing
He want his face fixed, so he′s fairier opinions
Taught the black man made little contributions
Schools only begin with the slave institution
Teachers steady hollering 'bout how far we came
Like our history started out with slavery′s chains

Never saying a thing about the Indus Valley
Or Kush, and I ain't talking ′bout the dro from Cali
Before we rallied in them streets for emancipation
We were schooling the Greeks about civilization
See him facing his reflection, is he come to regret it?
Him bleaching his complexion with some dumb cosmetic
Tryna edit his face, which was God-engineered
Pathetic how these devils convince him he look weird


Imagine if God existed among us
Grew up around gangs in a neighborhood that's rough
His mom smoked pot, and his pops in the pen
Got harassed by cops 'cause the color of his skin
Would he find sin in the way we survive?
I come to the field, I′ll fight to stay alive
Would he find sin in the way we survive?
I come to the field, I′ll fight to stay alive

Picture God raised in the imperial courts
Or the Nickerson Gardens where they kill for sport

Out in Compton in the street growing up in the grannies
In Long Beach where it's mando, your gun stay handy
Half the family that he know either dead or in jail
Pops and his big bro doing life in a cell
He′d rebel, I believe it in my heart he would
Sometimes you gotta be evil to survive in the hood

What's good and what′s bad all depends on the judge
While all those with a badge only see as is thugs
If you dug a little deeper, then you're sure to uncover
A provider for his people, for his sister and brother
You′ll discover that the question that I posed in the hook
In its essence is a fact many folks overlook
The Good Book says we're all in the image of God
Next time you see a crook who's intending to rob
Just imagine if God

Imagine if God existed among us
Grew up around gangs in a neighborhood that′s rough
His mom smoked pot, and his pops in the pen
Got harassed by cops ′cause the color of his skin
Would he find sin in the way we survive?
I come to the field, I'll fight to stay alive
Would he find sin in the way we survive?
I come to the field, I′ll fight to stay alive