The Prayer

My dearly beloved brothers ye who cook coke to crack
Chop it and sell it to fiends to make a profit back
Dealers, Gamblers and Hustlers, Pimp Ballers and Players Thugs, Thieves and Killers let us bow in prayer
“Our Father who art in jail, I shall be thy Gangster
Thy kingdom of guns….and thy will swing a razor
On the street corners as it is in prison Give us gats this day, and spray our daily lead
Who testify against us we pray they soon be dead For thine is thy Kingpin, power and the glory Forever more amen”
 Now pour out some 40s
For shorties 6 feet under, Hustlers and Number Runners
Surround our Ghetto Christ at the last supper Tables of yayo, cathedrals of kilos Gangster bibles and Desert Eagles
Apostles with their liquor bottles Bullets with tips that’s hollow Silencers that fit the nozzles, banana clip that follows
A gun aficionado the last Epistle’s novel
His disciples…….
First there’s Pistol Paul, then there’s John the Ratchet
Right across the hall two cats he sold his crack with Along with Gangster James, the other Killer Andrew
One like the Son of Man stood within the seven candles
With was a number spot raided by a hundred cops
But Ghetto Jezus stood there till a gun was shot
And there was a Murder Mark along with
Tom and Phillip They hung in the park
Talking ’bout stacking mills up along with Money Luke
Him and Peter Black the wild one of the crew
Never scared to squeeze his gat and there’s the Nazarite Shaking three pairs of dice kiss them said the Anti Christ
That’s the crackpipe he blew on ’em rolled them on the corner
All his disciples got warrants Crackheads that’s the torment
Hell followed the horsemen Jails crowded with lawmen
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