Dear God, let my son be a doctor, a lawyer, a basketball player, or a fireman…
shoot he can even be a rapper like me! But Lord I beg you…

Please, don’t, let, my son be a gangsta {a gangsta}
Please, don’t, let, my son be a gangsta {no no not a gangsta}
Please, don’t, let, my son be a gangsta {anything but a gangsta}
Please, don’t, let, my son be a gangsta

Can’t go to sleep, knowing rivals might drive by
Eryday he wakes up, knowing that he might die
Living on the edge, just ta get a slight high
Living a life, where, everyday I cry
Only time we see him, in jail or family funerals
Forced to lose his close, homies that he knew the most
Instead of choosing a gang, I pray he choose his bros
This is my heart, not just lyrics over music notes
Won’t you give him the strength, to be a strong brother
And show him pains a part of life, so he will not suffer
Show him gangstas are hard, but God’s tougher
Cuz I’ll be damned, if he dies over the wrong color
Wearing a rag, or American flag
Let him carry round a Bible, stead of carr’ing a mag
Don’t let him get so high, he ain’t prepared for attack
Or look in the mirror, and see the Devil staring right back

Please, don’t, let, my son be a gangsta {a gangsta}
Please, don’t, let, my son be a gangsta {no no not a gangsta}
Please, don’t, let, my son be a gangsta {anything but a gangsta}
Please, don’t, let, my son be a gangsta

G-a-n-g-s-t-a
Before my son becomes one, Lord let me pray
With his cousin Aykay, and my nephew Trae
At his funeral, singing, “Yesterday”
No betta yet “Gangsta Lean”, like D.R.S.
Help him know love, neva be heartless
Don’t let me and his momma push him, when we are stressed
Make him, your God-son, Lord be our guest
Don’t let us let him slip, simply cuz of missed cues
Or let him run away, simply cuz of split views
Don’t let him ever try to solve his problems with booze
The worlds a match, help us put out, his lit fuse
Help us listen when he shares with us his issues
And when he can’t hold it in, get him tissues
Our life’d be over if me and his momma get news
That our grandson, just put on his shoes

Please, don’t, let, my son be a gangsta {a gangsta}
Please, don’t, let, my son be a gangsta {no no not a gangsta}
Please, don’t, let, my son be a gangsta {anything but a gangsta}
Please, don’t, let, my son be a gangsta

If he’s left with no choice but to join a gang
Let him find you in the end and avoid the flames
Let the realest OG teach my boy to bang
Let him make his competition look like they ain’t toilet trained
Let his name bring fear, to his enemies
Help him keep his path clear, so he can get his cheese
Let him rest with ease, no tears all pleasantries
A wedding please nah! As long as he finds a centerpiece
Let her be faithful, even if she don’t marry him
Let em have respect for eachother, so she ain’t scared of him
If they choose to have a son let her carry him
All I ask Lord, my son, don’t make me bury him
Let him bury me, and carry on my legacy
Let him see your light, until he’s breaking free
Let I love you, be the last word’s he say to me
And when he dies, Lord won’t you take a G…

Please, don’t, let, my son be a gangsta {a gangsta}
Please, don’t, let, my son be a gangsta {no no not a gangsta}
Please, don’t, let, my son be a gangsta {anything but a gangsta}
Please, don’t, let, my son be a gangsta