Sometimes I'm hurtin' and I'm burdened when I'm gazin' insideCause I ain't concerned with other persons, the foundation in prideFeel like a fake and a lieIt's the comforts of my Lord cause I be raisin' Him highUntil the day that I die, I surely struggle with this apathy invadingI try to front, like I'm Mr. Compassionate and my ratings are highAnd meanwhile these folks is hurtin everyplace, I should cryBut I lose sight like bullets grazin' my eyes, what should I do now?When I drive through my city, and I see these folks' hurtin'Yea, I'm certain that I care till' I'm home and close the curtainIt's like they ain't even there, man my heart is so disturbin'I should be prayin for em, findin' ways that I can serve emThe bottom line, Lord I'm praying that I'll be on the grindPursuing service, never out of sight, out of mindPreaching truth and trying to model my Lord till He's back and them kneeshit the floorI'm waitin!
