| Pain from a rap cat
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| Man you didn’t know that
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| 3 AM, man, we bumping Bobby Womack
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| My homie keep all his bullets hollow
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| That’s why I smell like Salvatori Faragomo with the diamond sparrow
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| A rap cat with the BOSS apparel
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| I put my rhymes on your block then I run it just like little Darrell
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| Money and dope, man, don’t come for free
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| Man, I don’t have no competition, ho, all I got is enemies
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| I turn around like a tornado
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| Rock it like a baby cradle
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| Call me Doctor J if you a baller and it’s getting fatal
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| I make MC’s do angel dust
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| Take 'em to the Bay Bridge, make 'em strip, tell 'em jump
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| I don’t know why I get high
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| I’m so in love with money I keep spending 'til it runs dry
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| Hot like a kettle, when the pedal hits the metal
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| Pinocchio you know son is Jepetio, hello
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| Deep fried just like Friday fish
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| A lot a hot sauce, now we got it popping in this bitch
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| Yeah, in anything I do I put my everything
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| Always feeling deep inside just like Mary J.
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| Ha, I’m never panicing, I’m bored stiff as a mannequin
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| Grew up fast just like Anikin
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| Baby its gullible, its Alice in Wonderland
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| All the excuses in the world I can’t understand
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| Cuz I’m a man of these times, the man to get high
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| Blow big, but my gross is family time
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| Ain’t no way to intervene in my industry
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| Moving quicker then a centipede on enemies
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| One of a kind, once in a lifetime rhymes is written
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| It goes on, as long as time commences
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| Shit, it’s like a jungle sometimes
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| It makes me wonder how I keep from going under
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| When they hit me with the thunder and lightning
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| its trifling, enlightening, and frightening
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| some might think that it’s even exciting
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| I’m like a Harley Davidson motorcycle, born to ride
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| With the force that the courts call the last Jedi
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| I’m like a veteran, off Excedrin’s
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| cuz I be getting headaches from these Letterman’s
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| I asked this little freak about my rap style
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| She said, It’s so damn dope they might take you to trial.
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| I hit the weed like I’m kamikaze next to the cosmos
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| Chopping up shit, yeah, with Quipto and Vago
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| Raps like a Tommy gun, watch how the body run
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| Raps from the Tommy gun will make anybody run
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| I’m bout to go in like a movie, but no stunt double so parachute me But somehow I feel I survived on a fluky
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| I have to hit the scene, livin’out my dreams
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| Then I said I was sorry to DJ’s and MC’s
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| Complete to everyone who kept their ear to the street
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| Then my homie came through with the Al Capone Suite
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| Got twice as deep, don’t forget, you know how low they get
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| Intimidating so I pose a threat
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| Coming like a slider, right by ya Known to drop a rhyme in on time, and prescribing accurate alignment
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| The center of attention, we’ll bend a agenda
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| To enter this rap game the number one contender
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| The outta sight, and dope lyrical white, and watchin’tricks fightin'
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| Hyping up the crowd late night, and watching Tennessee Titans
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| Everybody just loving because we like and
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| I strike in first class light fast, just like lightning
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| I force my rhymes in your veins like hot shot of heroin
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| You’ll got cold turkey trying to work me It’s like a pad lock, when you in the headlock
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| Six in the morning and you didn’t here the Feds knock
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| It’s like a jungle sometimes
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| It makes me wonder how I keep from going under
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| When they hit me with the thunder and lightning
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| Its trifling, enlightening, and frightening
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| some might think that it’s even exciting
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| I’m consistent, adding all statistics
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| Why don’t we cover the spread like the bitch never existed
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| Phonographic rotate the plastic spinning
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| Living like I’m knowing it’s gonna be a drastic ending
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| Playing classics, meditating these tactics to overcome
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| The show is done, anticipating to roll a blunt
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| Baby, getting anxious, hitting and I can’t miss the focal point
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| When locals say, He ain’t shit.
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| Man it’s Equipto, put it all down for my homies
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| And rolling my weed right next to the police
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| Nothing but love for all my homeboys hustling drugs
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| Up in your program fucking it up
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| I’m in the fast lane, the cash lane, some think it’s a bad thing
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| Hitting 'em off with the C &H pure cane
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| I get stuck in your membrane
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| I’m like a pimp at a party when you say look at them rings
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| I use a Motorola, the mood is baking soda
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| Whether it’s in Denver, man, Houston, man, or North Dakota
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| With no apology, tech-tech-tech technology
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| Some brother disin’me, or even thinkin’he
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| I got the soul and the spirit of the wrath of Kahn
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| Kick back and write just like the holy Koran
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| It’s like a jungle sometimes
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| It makes me wonder how I keep from going under
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| When they hit me with the thunder and lightning
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| Its trifling, enlightening, and frightening
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| some might think that it’s even exciting |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Jungle, artist - Andre Nickatina. Album song Midnight Machine Gun Rhymes and Alibis, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп