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