This is a song about "Holy prophet"

How can i be a prophet with so much imperfection

Dirty rotten nigger picked it from a cotton gin

Ain't heard a nigga thorough, it ain't perfect, but i work

Drops the holy symbol, replaced with fingers encumbered

Until the day i put 100k inside her purse

Most of us some holy bowlers,

I call it my holy grace

You're that secret place

Your holy raps are to me

We the 93 chicago bulls baby

They pull you in and destroy you like manson or prophet jones,

Now son is the only onegrows up in adoption homes