I paid for my sins with a couple our fathers

Five Hail Mary’s and I didn’t even bother

Wrapping up the prayer coz I didn’t see the point

Church congregation I reluctantly joined

I might have been going through some minor depression

When I lied about repenting and gave him the impression

That I wanted to be saved in my first confession

But to say the least, this priest can’t save you

Touching the Sto Nino couldn’t take me to heaven

But in my Mom’s prayers she was tryna make it happen

I look up to the saints on the stained windowpane

Hmm, I wonder why don’t look the same

Big man in a robe reading bible verses

Old Filipinas with Louise Visteon purses

It all seemed the same in my previous churches

I had to resemble what they thought was perfect                

CHORUS

So our father tell me, is there a stairway to heaven

A place for the crooks and liars and the felons

Who fell in to the dark but are seeking the light

Had to take a left just to make things right

School was no different I had to stay fronting

Otherwise society would take it all from me

Iron bars on every table in the campus lunch court

Step out of line and you’re surely done for

I hated the Filipinos coz I knew I wasn’t accepted

Coz I was FOB and somewhat accented

But I was wrong coz forgot that we were still brothers

From the same mother land who came up from the gutters

Of a new world order got to get my mind straight

Migraine to my momma ever since we migrated

To the united states of under privileged kids

Man I should be thankful that imp living like this

And I look up to God, one final shot

California dreaming with my late night thoughts

So I’m sorry to all the Flips that I hated on

From now on Pare its nothing but love

CHORUS

So our father tell me, is there a stairway to heaven

A place for the crooks and liars and the felons

Who fell in to the dark but are seeking the light

Had to take a left just to make things right

They tried to sell me the second coming like front row seats

And told me I was nothing but a kid from over sees

But I can’t over see how my life was perceived

So I get up on my grind, brush it off and proceed

And developed a habit for not listening things

That they shove down my throat then try to make me sing

The motivation was money and idea was to be rich

But to them I’m nothing more but a punk and a snitch

Ran for the hills when things got real

You don’t have what it takes to throw down and steel

But if I chose that life then where would it end

Maybe a funeral for my family and friends

It’s unusual for trouble kids like me

To even see a diploma or a college degree

But I detached myself from their status quo

Coz I know if heaven had a ghetto it’d be painted gold