Lyrics The Jungle - Dave Vegas, Vanderslice, The Flying Dutchmen

The Jungle

Yo, Flying Dutchmen, motherfucker
No way out
There’s no way out of this jungle, that we live in
Every day we hustle, make our way through struggle
More muscle if you expect to win, yeah
Time waits for no man, pedal to the flo', man
We breezing through light fo' sho and
It’s our goal, fam, don’t get in our way
Don’t get in our way
Gotta make it, gotta take it, by any means
Friends becoming enemies, get bit by the centipede
Center stage, center grade, the temperature’s hot and risin'
Sent a few spun, blood pressure boils over horizons
The tyrant in the climate of hell and baptism
Fire water for the sons and daughters that lack wisdom
In a cold world, naked, forsaken and lost
They feel my passion but they laughin' at me, staked to a cross
Like, «Hold me down, son,» fuck that, I’m letting it burst
And anybody in my way, you’ll get laid in the dirt
Lying in the jungle, battle cat, the Dutchmen’ll shatter tracks
Equalize your equasystem, visions of my habitat
Lex Star search for red October
The dead lock soldier, you bled, catch a head shot, it’s over
Over and gone but the flowin' is strong
Matter of fact, just take a quote from this song, yo
There’s no way out of this jungle, that we live in
Every day we hustle, make our way through struggle
More muscle if you expect to win, yeah
Time waits for no man, pedal to the flo', man
We breezing through light fo' sho and
It’s our goal, fam, don’t get in our way
Don’t get in our way
Cold winters, broke bitches with no winches
Five to ten sentence, cocaine, scoping at gold Lexs
Breaking in old Benzs, fiends shooting and smokin'
Drug sales keep my crew in the open
It’s '9−8, my mind state is to find cake
Moving at a high rate, flee when we spot Jake
Kick in the doors tryin' to find the safe
But never was the type to put the nine to your face
Sold weed copped the whip, crashed that, copped another one
Fitz stole keys to a whip, got caught, was troublesome
Did eleven months, got out and stole another one
But me, Lex and him on a track are still number one
In this habitat, it’s not hard to grab a gat
But it’s hard to rise above and never travel back
It’s hard to get a buzz with all these cats that rap
I spit it raw like every bar is a battle rap, motherfucker
There’s no way out of this jungle, that we live in
Every day we hustle, make our way through struggle
More muscle if you expect to win, yeah
Time waits for no man, pedal to the flo', man
We breezing through light fo' sho and
It’s our goal, fam, don’t get in our way (No, no)
Don’t get in our way (We will not be stopped)
Don’t get in our way (Go hard till we reach the top)
Don’t get in our way (We will not be stopped)
Don’t get in our way, no, no, no
Don’t get in our way (We will not be stopped)
Don’t get in our way, no (Go hard till we reach the top)
Don’t get in our way, get in our way, no, no, no, no, no, no
… Seeking the silk and spices of the far East, sailed around the Southern tip
of Africa, the Cape of Good Hope.
Often battered by severe storms,
navigating the cape is a most treacherous undertaking.
Here, legend says,
is born the story of the most famous of all ghost ships, the Flying Dutchman.
Her story begins in 1680, when a Dutch captain named Philip Vanderdecken
swears a curse against God that he’ll succeed in rounding the Cape if he has to
keep trying until Judgement Day.
The ship and her crew never returned home.
But they are seen again — not as flesh and bone or wood and canvas — but as a
spectral vision.
A sea-going ghost.
Sailors return home and tell of seeing the
Flying Dutchman and her cursed crew, often before experiencing a disaster of
their own.
They have passed down the tale that no soul aboard the Dutchman can
rest unless another sailor takes its place