Cam’ron & A-Trak – Ghetto Prophets (ft. Conway The Machine) (Audio, Lyrics)

Cam’ron & A-Trak unveil the “Ghetto Prophets” track off their collaborative U Wasn’t There project. The song features Conway The Machine and was co-produced by A-Trak, DJ Khalil & Lakim.

Cam’ron & A Trak U Wasn’t There

Cam’ron’s announced a few projects in recent times, from Camdemic to The Program 2, but neither of these projects have materialized. Between his Pink Horsepower brand and his cannabis strain, Cam’s keeping busy with a slew of entrepreneurial ventures that have seemingly veered him away from the studio.

Fortunately, A-Trak has been crafting what he describes as the perfect Cam’ron album over the past few years. The two dropped off “All I Really Wanted” as they announced U Wasn’t There and today, they followed it up with a brand new record alongside Conway the Machine titled, “Ghetto Prophets.”

“Ghetto Prophets’ is Killa Cam at his most cold-hearted. You can already hear Funk Flex’s bombs over this one,” A-Trak said in a press release.

U Wasn’t There will feature eight songs in total with a bonus track of the previously released, “Dipshits.” The project will also include features from Styles P, Dame Dash, and Mr. Vegas.

Cam’ron & A-Trak – Ghetto Prophets (ft. Conway The Machine) (prod. A-Trak, DJ Khalil & Lakim)

Lyrics

[Intro: Cam’ron]
Ayo, A-Trak, man
Let me tell you what the fuck happened the other day, man
Listen (Crazy)
Right, look

[Verse 1: Cam’ron]
I picked her up in my sports car (Vroom)
She hopped in, tight jeans, sports bra (Hey)
She about a seven, so I took her a four-star
Can’t front, I was harder than a doorknob (Shit, I was)
We was done, I said “Here go your report card”
A C+, she was like, “Hell nah”
You kept kissin’ it, you wasn’t on your job
Then I grabbed the back of your head, you got your jaws raw
She said, “Keep it to yourself, no rebelling”
I said, “Bitch, we ain’t kiss, don’t worry ’bout me telling”
Look here, I’m a fella, some say I’m compellin’ (Well, I am)
I’m what you get, Boston Jaws mixed with Margiela (What up?)
And Margiela’s in the glove, I got the semi’ cocked
Don’t talk old money if you never had a Penzi box (What’s that?)
Go ‘head and Google that, Killa, I’m talkin’ snappin’ facts (Facts)
I’m gettin’ milky money, you can keep the apple jack

[Chorus: Conway the Machine]
Stop playin’, you know I’m gettin’ to that low (Stop playin’ with me, nigga)
Two new Virgil colorways, I just got ’em both (Hahaha)
Drip, drip, drip, ninety-two hundred for my coat (Drip)
White girl and doggy-dogg, I sold ’em both (Haha)
Niggas stacked up five-hundred thousand sellin’ dope (Back)
Infinity pools and ocean views, right by the coast
Switch on the pole, youngin’ gon’ up it if it’s smoke (Brr)
Switch on the pole, nigga, this— (Boom, boom, boom, boom)

[Verse 2: Cam’ron]
Hip-hop snap this rap factory (Hello), GATs all in the faculty
Y’all sleep, I sleep with a half a mil’ and a sack to me (Yeah)
Girls rollin’ up saks for me, niggas pumpin’ they packs for me
Actually a girl bleedin’, happy ending, she jackin’ me
Homie, I came from nothin’, tell ’em an introduction
The crack era destruction, you shoot in it or you bluffin’
If not, ’nuff with the fussin’, keep cuttin’, paint a discussion
We shoot in it at your muffin, I fill you turkeys with stuffin’
I’m only bein’ honest, much up, suit was orange
Fuck bein’ opp to the T, I shot niggas in my pajamas
A-Trak, let’s change the genre (Genre), I fill festivals (Yeah)
Word to bless Shaq moms, we’re off the Sandra (Hallelujah)
You know me, karma after karma (Karma)
Huh, karma after karma (Karma)
Got that old white girl, you can call her Madonna (Brr)
And this thing on my hip, it’s a sawed-off

[Chorus: Conway the Machine]
Stop playin’, you know I’m gettin’ to that low (Stop playin’ with me, nigga)
Two new Virgil colorways, I just got ’em both (Hahaha)
Drip, drip, drip, ninety-two hundred for my coat (Drip)
White girl and doggy-dogg, I sold ’em both (Haha)
Niggas stacked up five-hundred thousand sellin’ dope (Back)
Infinity pools and ocean views, right by the coast
Switch on the pole, youngin’ gon’ up it if it’s smoke (Brr)
Switch on the pole, nigga, this— (Boom, boom, boom, boom)