| Tropical night on tha Congo’s shore Jungles 're sleepin putten forward thorns
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| Wild africa smells of venture tang Noiseless sneak Negoro’s gang
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| Take care and out yo ass, man They’re dealers of da livin wares
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| Poor blacks are target in da fuckin hunt But natives have da protector — Dick
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| Sand
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| Oh this guy! |
| He’s brave 'n yaang He’s supaman boy when he’s not too full drunk
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| He’s 15, but he’s keany gun By da way, Mrs. Waldon — she 'nows his tongue
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| They sail atlantic witha captain Gull This MF bastardo Negoro
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| Negoro’s alive again
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| It’s not S. america mista Sand This terrible country, slaveholdin land
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| AFRICA — yo contrast style Can demolish yaang 15-age mind
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| Yaang cptn. |
| Sand, it’s not N.Y. Yo friends, free blax, here’s smelly joke
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| It’s not motha brooklyn, not fuckin bronx anotha rules, anotha blocks
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| Detachment moves to da centre of land Yankees are bozo, yankees are rampin'
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| With da «Insectkilla» cousin Benedict They’re drinkin rum eight days a week
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| Negoro spies on band from tricket He wanna fun too, he’s wicked
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| Negoro’s bad, he wants Mrs. Waldon In jungle babydolls are so rare
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| Now, how’s Dick? |
| He’s hero again Witha Greatest Mgamga he calls da rain
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| He treats da bushmen 'n sings them songs 'N tells 'em storys 'bout wars in bronx
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| Warriors, c’mout to plaaaaaay
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| Negoro attacks Dicks little band They fight like lions, haven’t dread
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| But they are scanty, they loose Negoro take cptn. |
| in fuckin noose
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| Proud Sand is wild, Negoro has him teased He stuck da 'nife into da portuguese
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| beast
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| Negoro’s dead, his heart is not knock Check it out, u brotha, really cool shock |