Granny’s Prayer

[Intro: Philmore Greene]
Uh. Check. Look

[Verse 1: Philmore Greene]
Just bundle up in the cold
You’re getting paper, gotta watch how you roll. The cops
And your foes’ll try to put a stop to your flow
Flocking with hoes that know you’re on the block to get dough?
It’s temporary ‘cause, the moment that it stops, she’ll go
Niggas’ll hustle, bitches’ll hustle every day
Twenty-four ‘cause ain’t no such thing as stop-and-then-go
Pimps and hoes be laying on the blocks in the cold
Most patches’ll be at ya, in your pockets for dough
Righteous, I know quite a few lifers than never had
Nothing but crack dreams, used to stuff ‘em in their diapers
The hood’ll leave you stretched out, angry, nothing to fight with
That’s why my people our here are hustling, working the night shift
Granny a Witness, my other granny is Christian, so
I guess I’m more blessed, prayed over by two religions
And I guess God granted me rise—this be the ticket
Now all I do is live it and script it for you to get. Come on

[Hook: Slot-A]
My granny’s
Prayers is with me, so you haters can miss me, you can’t
Delay my vision (Now get the fuck out the way)
Got my mind in the Miller, they told me crime don’t pay
Could you explain private prisons? (Now get the fuck out the way)
My cousin Chauncey popped off, locked up on the jaw
Child support cut my check off, now I’m on [?]
Gotta [?] after I lost my job
(Good Lord, Good Lord, Good Lord)

[Verse 2: Philmore Greene]
Check, my nigga Mel in
The Feds, he a certified hood nigga. I swear
Them people always got to take a good nigga. He sent
The kite like, “Fuck that money. You know I’m right
Send some pictures of my crew in the hood, nigga”
Stand up, God lock the body but never lock the mind
38 to 85, now that’s some hard times
They label us all low-lifes and drug dealers
But ain’t nobody perfect, not even a judge, nigga
We’re born losers but instilled with a will to win
Keep a gun cocked with nice vision in the field we’re in
Shorties hustling, D’s running the P’s
Blowing on trees, and this is all by the age of ten
So you roll them dice—go ‘head, Hully Gully
And we ain’t waiting for December to put on them Skullies
Welcome to the jungle. Be hated or be the hater
I’m protected by God and my granny’s prayer

[Hook: Slot-A]
Uh, my granny’s
Prayers is with me, so you haters can miss me, you can’t
Delay my vision (Now get the fuck out the way)
Got my mind in the Miller, they told me crime don’t pay
Could you explain private prisons? (Now get the fuck out the way)
My cousin Chauncey popped off, locked up on the jaw
Child support cut my check off, now I’m on [?]
Gotta [?] after I lost my job
(Good Lord, Good Lord, Good Lord)
(Good Lord, Good Lord, Good Lord)
(Good Lord, Good Lord, Good Lord)
(Good Lord, Good Lord, Good Lord)
(Good Lord, Good Lord, Good Lord)