Styles P verse 1
Benjamin
Ghost
Yeah
How many times should I pray a day
Cause I don't even sleep
I just stay awake
Hard being the players that the players hate
Lex got the band aids
I ain't tryna flex
I'm just tryna get a check
In this new GTS so 
I can break gravity and speed while I medicate
I'm the bomb I ain't detonate
Plant base will fuck around and poison your pepper steak
Gun shot to the informants 
Everything Irie
Everything enormous
Grew up on them corners
Now we in the acres 
What we got is sacred
You wit it or you not wit it
Oswin them Benjamin's will have the whole block clickin' yeah
(Say we nuh talk wit nuh Babylon)
We ain't got a flight but it's work in the carry on
Hit me twice with the 45. Told him to carry on yeah

Hook
Say we no talk wit no Babylon
The gun shot for the informer Lord
My motha irie
My father irie
But God bless the child that can hold his own
Man a talk wit too many people dem
You never see the snakes till the grass cut off
So tell me mother not fi take no worry
Cause God bless the child that can hold his own 

Oswin Verse 2
I'm just a good nigga 
Surrounded by hood niggas 
Who never learned to pull out 
But learned how to pull triggers
Who believe in the almighty dollar before their Heavenly Father
Not knowing when they leave they can't take it with them
We been the generation of degenerates
Children knocking grown men out cause' they bored 
So never play the games if you ain't got them hands bro
The only g code respected can't be gravity
Half of these niggas willing to flat line for what they stand for
Damn God
Ain't hard to believe 
Been trusting hoes that been swallowing sends since Adam and Eve 
My momma told this Moses that council can be his cure or his virus
So make sure that your staff ain't your disease 
Parted ways wit niggas
Boys turn to men on a bended knee 
I had to pray for niggas
Wisdom and selfish on a scale
I couldn't wait for niggas 
Second to none look at this shot clock
I can't play with niggas
Muted emotions what can I say to niggas
Lord

Hook
Say we no talk wit no Babylon
The gun shot for the informer Lord
My motha irie
My father irie
But God bless the child that can hold his own
Man a talk wit too many people dem
You never see the snakes till the grass cut off
So tell me mother not fi take no worry
Cause God bless the child that can hold his own 

Had to lose the fake to find out what the real about
Had to lose some wisdom just to get my feelings out
Found the road to righteousness along the sinners route
Same nigga but they looking at me different now (2x)

Copyright: Songtrust Ave
Writer(s): DAVID STYLES, DOMINIQUE SMITH, OSWIN GODFREY BENJAMIN, SHAROD RANDOLPH