EVERYDAY BLESSED

Yo. Funkdafied.

What it do up in the great white north — from the mud to the light.

Let's get them. Brick City to Lagos. Yo.

Stepping out the building, cold smoke in my lungs,

steel rims hit the pavement where the ice gets hung.

It was brick out, minus 40, hoodies under the coat,

radiator dead silent, hunger sitting in throes.

Just a Black man pacing, trying to scheme on a lane,

but the Most High threw the blueprint, cutting through all the game.

Through the Canadian freeze where the nights run long,

had the bassline thump steady, kept my spirit strong.

You was feeding me hope when the fridge looked bare,

turned the snow-covered corner to an answered prayer.

You showed the way through the darkest of night,

you showed the way through the darkest of night.

You showed the warmth, then you gave us light

in the cold — Lord, we lift your name.

In a foreign land, held secure by your mighty hand.

I go da la every day, every day.

Yo. I'm flipping through my thoughts, hit the wall of the doubting,

watching snowflakes fall slow, mind steady shouting.

Brain drifting to the shadows, second-guessing the plan,

like I forgot who wrote the script — whole globe in his hand.

Then you cut through the frost, cracked the ice on my pride,

sent them angels in hoodies, boots laced at my side.

Real strangers turned fam, yeah, they shattered the ice,

paid the cost with their time, dropped that godly advice.

While the fakes in fresh fits tried to watch me fall,

your divine intervention shut down it all.

We repent for the days we faltered,

now our lives on your holy altar.

You defeated the wounds and the shadows,

led our feet through the deepest valley.

You sent your angels down, saved our cries.

Through the ice and the storm, you kept us safe and warm

when the enemy gathered.

Through the ice and the storm, you kept us safe and warm

when the enemy gathered.

You shattered the door — front door, walking in blessings.

Through the door, walking in blessings.

You showed the way through the darkest of night,

you showed the way through the darkest of night.

You showed the warmth, then you gave us light

in the cold — Lord, we lift your name.

In a foreign land, held secure by your mighty hand.

Now I'm down on the floor, Lord, washing off all the sin,

hear the cry of a kid from the block, let the healing begin.

Clean the blind steps I took, line my path from today,

keep my circle protected, don't let them drift astray.

And I fix my stare back on the soil of my birth —

bless Africa, Father, richest drum on the earth.

Let the continent rise up, pull the veil from my eyes,

recognize all the power, let the kingdoms arise.

From the diaspora, retrace to the motherland shores,

let your blessings rain heavy, kid, open new doors. Yeah.

Forgive us, guide us — rise up, Africa.

Heavenly Father, creator of the universe,

we thank you for being our shield in the wilderness.

Forgive our doubts when the frost crept into our hearts.

We ask for your continuous guidance over our families in this diaspora.

And Lord, we lift up the motherland.

Bless Africa — pour out your spirit from the north to the south, east to west.

Let your children wake up to their divine inheritance.

Let the continent thrive, heal and last.