Promised Land

[Verse 1:38 Spesh]
A yo I'm wanted dead by niggas that never killed nothing
Can't stop, I'm still hustling, not gonna change topics
Think it's time we deal with the real subject
Niggas quick to destroy cause they never built nothing
Come on, ask me some grown shit
You'd rather ask me for a loan
You see a nigga own?
Instead of getting game, you'd rather ask me to hold shit
And bone pick with the ones that actually own shit
Every nigga in my faculty holding
You can't expect hospitality from the homeless
I still be rapping about old shit, but truth be told, I would hate to go back on them road trips
Got a shooter that's gonna clap 'till it's over
Tеn grand on your head, two for twenty like thе Applebee's poster
If it's beef, I would have to need closure
It's like World War II when you was the Japanese soldier, motherfucker

[Verse 2:Che Noir]
Celebrating, come pour a drink, all white attire
Drink ace of spades like it's Poland Spring
Had a drunk man's vision with sober dreams
I'm slow to speak, quick to listen, not pay attention
But I sold it cheap, I had to set the mood
I gave the naked truth, wore my heart on my sleeve
Treat the booth like a dressing room, every illustration
It's like my mind texting news, my pen is penetrating
It's like I'm having sex with you
Look, we was young wives that made us rich
My crew remind you a drumline cause we come with sticks
Niggas know when it's crunch time, that'll make you fit
Every verse come with punchlines that'll make you flinch, yeah
My shooters bring death to you from one stare
Trigger finger moves look like I'm telling you to come here
Niggas throw threats, expecting you to run scared
We chop bodies and send the rest to you with one air