Wicked Land

[Verse 1] Before your mug turns, execution of slug perms Thugs yearn for the status in money that drugs earn Boys love searn, mission to stay above worms For the bread chicks stay on they knees like bug worms We don't tell jokes, better boat when ya smell smoke We illiterate hustlers we can't even spell broke Youngstas sell dope and contribute to jail gross Snitches tell folks who working ending up in twelve-O's Still we rush through, barricades that touch you Bullets crush you and persecute with forty bust you You'll be superbly, with the court and the judge search me They don't love mercy; cops are racist and blood thirsty They submit plans, hustlers get around like wristbands You ain't gotta pay a hit man seventy-six grand In a big chance you better be slick with quick hands And try'na never sell a stand by the fan where the ship lands [Hook: x2] From the time the sunrise they devise no good If you a G then I know I just described yo hood If you not better watch where your driver stand Or mess around and make a wrong turn in the wicked land [Verse 2] When the walk rose, more soul gets foreclose Cats are hard nose; get us they arm like torso Cars blow, up in inter-spark modes a charcoal Nark's roll through and beat up youngsta's on dark roads Praminite try and grab thieves framing you finding scaps [?] on slabs being an examinee crime labs (yeah) And every picture the portraits a mad man Torturous bad man with corpses in trash cans Boy you Mr. Clean, plus you greener than Listerine You ain't live to see the wicked extremes the pistol brings Houses fit for kings, bosses who have you kissing rings Explicit things the victims be hoping that it's a dream But as sure as I'm rapping, this ain't no tourist attraction The impurest of acts is crafted by hooded assassins A mob target, they'll spark it in his apartment Wife and daughter get home they'll be walking the red carpet [Hook x2] [Verse 3] We take hearts, and vacation in Saint Barts Breaking bank faults, we so wicked we shank thoughts See we fire straps, ammo try'na to frier cams Iron claps on the crying rath wearing wire taps Straight raw foes, high weapons inside clothes Can't describe those, three shots but five holes Chasing pesos fools auction in they souls Try'na make doe, we got judges on payrolls Got the cerve famous, specializing in bird maintenance We serve daily stellify ducking the surveillance Pink shirt rippers, the enemy hersh flippers Better work with us, tricks try'na converse strippers Worldwide anthems, we too rugged to ride fathoms Haters dying, cramping, killers hiding inside mansions Then a slaughter move, you ain't leaving you outta dude Will expose the intestinal fortitude part of you, yeah [Outro] Yeah Ya boy K-Rino This goes out to every ghetto every hood in the world Shoutout to my homie the Re-Up Entertainment Third Ward Erowid Homes Shoutout to the Brick Boyz, South Park, Fifth Ward Vice Lords, G's, B's & C's, the VA's Canna Court, Sterling Wood, Southeast