Ghetto Gospel Killer Mike
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Ghetto Gospel" by Killer Mike. Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Verse 1]
And I'm sitting on the edge of my bed holding my head
Trying to make this cake like a baker
And get some bread
My mama said hustlin' does come with feds
Time do the crime you better had be prepared
For what comes with it the killing the court convictions
Snorting, bitches, the snitches often they get acquitted
While the real sent to prison, to rot away while they living
And all because I say dope shit they on a mission
To nail my black ass to the wall with a conviction
I pray the Lawd hear me but really Lawd is ya listen'n
Praying when I'm in trouble I'm speaking with forked tongue
I say I'm out the game but I'm flinching like George Jung
I must be in the clutches of Satan it's all warm
My mama took you to the "root lady" to read my palm
She puts beads on my neck saying they protecting me from harm
But fuck this old witch, I went and got a gun
[Hook]
Oh Lord, Jesus, glory
Oh Lord
Oh Lord, Jesus, glory
Oh Lord
[Verse 2]
Looking at the bezel of my Breitling
Thinking that I used to sell raps for enlightenment
But I got lapped by them guys selling lies for the white man
Now I sell pies for the white man
And my tour bus is a moving indictment
This must be how Huey felt when the revolution failed
And in Oakland nigga turned him on to a sack of yayo
You know this feeling false but it feels like yeah
I may have lost my cause but not a reason to rebel
Revolutionary or drug dealer I'm in jail
And the C.O.'s call me nigga either way when I'm there
Just like they did Pac
Just like they do Mumia
Just like they doing to Mutulu or Assata if they see her
And ain't no justice if it's just us in court
For my folk and my people free Hoover, free Fort
The Lord never break us if we all on one accord
You know it
And I'm sitting on the edge of my bed holding my head
Trying to make this cake like a baker
And get some bread
My mama said hustlin' does come with feds
Time do the crime you better had be prepared
For what comes with it the killing the court convictions
Snorting, bitches, the snitches often they get acquitted
While the real sent to prison, to rot away while they living
And all because I say dope shit they on a mission
To nail my black ass to the wall with a conviction
I pray the Lawd hear me but really Lawd is ya listen'n
Praying when I'm in trouble I'm speaking with forked tongue
I say I'm out the game but I'm flinching like George Jung
I must be in the clutches of Satan it's all warm
My mama took you to the "root lady" to read my palm
She puts beads on my neck saying they protecting me from harm
But fuck this old witch, I went and got a gun
[Hook]
Oh Lord, Jesus, glory
Oh Lord
Oh Lord, Jesus, glory
Oh Lord
[Verse 2]
Looking at the bezel of my Breitling
Thinking that I used to sell raps for enlightenment
But I got lapped by them guys selling lies for the white man
Now I sell pies for the white man
And my tour bus is a moving indictment
This must be how Huey felt when the revolution failed
And in Oakland nigga turned him on to a sack of yayo
You know this feeling false but it feels like yeah
I may have lost my cause but not a reason to rebel
Revolutionary or drug dealer I'm in jail
And the C.O.'s call me nigga either way when I'm there
Just like they did Pac
Just like they do Mumia
Just like they doing to Mutulu or Assata if they see her
And ain't no justice if it's just us in court
For my folk and my people free Hoover, free Fort
The Lord never break us if we all on one accord
You know it
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