All Prophet

[Intro: Diddy]

It starts with the money
We control what's hot out here
We are fashion. We are music. We are sports
We are lifestyle, we are the story
We the shit and we don't own enough shit
Its going to take us supporting each other
In any way possible
It ain't even this hard
We the originals baby

[Pre Chorus: Six The Don]
What's a prophet
That can't make no profit?
From snatching wallets
We was out of pocket
(Uh)

[Verse One: Six The Don]
Bullets or Ballots, in the crib
I play that shit it’s on blast
Through a YouTube channel
I channel Malcolm Shabazz
Went and copped me a chopper
For any cop that harass
As a dark skinned Rican
You know they’ll kill my black ass
I do my business in cash
Charge my niggas the bag
They’ll go spend that in Louie
Won’t complain about that
If you feel like you tough
Go out and get you a gat
Then police your own hood
Make these crackers fall back
Nigga who else got our backs?
Check out the margin and stats
Any nigga make noise
End up a murals or tatts
Hustle for my last name
Get my game right from Dash
He gave The Breakfast Club gems
Them niggas stood there and laughed
Must keep receipts in the stash
Financial freedoms the task
Tekashi stood on the stand
At least that boy had a plan
Sold his soul for that money
Chose to rat on his man
But then again
Who let that fuck nigga in?
Obey the laws of the land
Talk on the phone
You get jammed
Stay as low as you can
Make sure you pay Uncle Sam
As they devalue the ghetto
Go out and buy you some land
Build a mall on that bitch
I swear I got me some plans
And…

[Chorus: ATM, Six The Don]
Turn a black dollar into black power
What’s a prophet
That can't make no profit?
From snatching wallets
We was out of pocket
Peep all this progress
Got to trust the process
Turn a black dollar into black power
What’s a prophet
That can't make no profit?
From snatching wallets
We was out of pocket
Peep all this progress
Got to trust the process

[Verse Two: Atm]
Look, I own my masters
I don’t slave no deal
This is all out of pocket
This Roc-A-fella for real
This TMC like for real
This TDE like for real
Im Master P with no grills
Feeling like Nip in the field
Named my son Nipsey for real
That mindsets deeply instilled
I spent my life cutting deals
Ain't nothing new in this field
Been independent before independent
Seemed to be ya sentiment
I was out here getting it
That's not up for questioning
You see me Crip’n this cola
And I'm Blood’n this pop
I been D’ussé with this yac
I bet it all on black
In my Sour Posse hoodie
Telfar on her bag
I still cop weed from the hustlers
Homie how loud is your bag?
See Killa Mike got SWAG
And ATM got halves
That nigga touched a few milli
I guess I did bad math
When Jackie got him a job
The Negro Leagues got dissolved
You see that's not a good trade
But that's too easy to say
Look but Ice Cube know
What Tyler Perry knows
What Jigga been knew
It's better to build your home
What The Marathons about
What every dope boy knows
Ain't no masters over here
I been free to come and go
Wipe my throne

[Chorus: ATM, Six The Don]
Turn a black dollar into black power
What’s a prophet
That can't make no profit?
From snatching wallets
We was out of pocket
Peep all this progress
Got to trust the process
Turn a black dollar into black power
What’s a prophet
That can't make no profit?
From snatching wallets
We was out of pocket
Peep all this progress
Got to trust the process