This is a song about "Land"

Hustlin' in each and every ghetto with a mic in my hand

Look at our presidents, he's charming, but he's raping the land,

So to tell the toys r us kids all across the land

Just think of all the people that you knew in the past

Going to the southern land

Just hustling you understand

Got racks you don’t understand

Handed down talent from the broke land

My god made the sea and land

That we can't forget the past

To a land far far away

She can't know where my mother stay

You always was a black queen, mamai finally understand

Apparently we're sharing this generic plot of blessed land,

That's relayed to try and simply brainwash half the land,

The walls i couldn't break em or take em apart with a tank