Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Jungle, artist - Pharoahe Monch. Album song PTSD - Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 14.04.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: W.A.R. Media
Song language: English
The Jungle |
Southside, you know we living in the jungle |
Brook’nam, you know we living in the jungle |
See them gorillas over there in the park, them my niggas |
After dark we get sparked up and pull triggers |
You gotta speak orangutan slang or pull capers |
The cops are the cheetahs and the trees are the skyscrapers |
See in the jungle we often rumble for loot |
Some of us just stumble around high off the booze, shoot |
You get shot, shit |
Play humble like last year when the cheetahs tried to catch my uncle |
When you come through, you could get bumped too |
If you don’t got at least 4 to 5 gorillas amongst you |
The bigger tree hit 'em shocked and amazed |
41 shots hot, take you out in the blaze |
And if not, they ship your ass to the Bronx in a cage |
Into the island where you spend your time counting the days |
But still agriculturally, it’s kind of ill, we blow mills |
They make a killing and build new lands in the jungle |
Shaolin, you know we living in the jungle |
Chi-town, you know we living in the jungle |
Westside, you know we living in the jungle |
I tell these chimpanzees who be carrying tools |
You don’t wanna invest your life in a cesspool |
Pharmaceutical distributin', breaking the rules |
You need to take your monkey ass off to school |
And learn about Botswana, Sudan and Ghana |
Mozambique and speak of pride and honor |
I understand sometimes we all feel fenced in |
But utilize your mind to define dimensions |
Just then I lost the little monkey’s attention |
As he stared into the distance focusing and squinting at a |
Beautiful gazelle that was grazing in the grass with |
Muscular legs and a rhinoceros ass |
But in the least case scenario I did try to tell him |
Hit him with some signs that was a little compelling |
Little gibbon on a mission, not unlike Magellan |
What you caught was some felons, crimes and drug selling in the jungle |
Yo, Ghana, you know we living in the jungle |
Cape Town, you know we living in the jungle |
Jo-burg, you know we living in the jungle |
I’m talking epileptic episodes off that Epinephrine |
That Albuterol and them other prescribed medicines |
A zombie in insomnia frecking the Amphetamines |
My moms had me smoking weed from the Netherlands at age 13 |
Broke apart the scene, a lot of moist weed that was sticky and green |
See in the 80's it was wine-coolers and woolies |
The Facts of Life, crack, David Dinkins and toolies |
Mike Jack said «kick me, kike me, Jew me» |
Now all the white chicks in the world got booties |
He rap by popular demand |
And a nigga nosey on some Toucan Sam shit |
You not Florida A&M, you not fam, dawg |
That would be (Marco), that’s my man |
For biceps I isolate with one hand |
For triceps I do reps with dip sets, but not Cam |
Scandal, governors busted, got damn |
Power to the people unite with one plan |
I used to write about green eggs and ham |
'Til I found out the Food and Drug Administration was a scam |
Now we steam vegetables, brown, forget the white rice |
My life is all I have, studying zeitgeist |
Lyrics bang now and again, sing like the Chi-Lites |
It’s my right to use my power to shine my light |
To function, you know the function |
Yo, Pharoahe Monch, what’s your motherfucking function? |
I go to Queens for queens, I eat organic in Brooklyn |
Swing on a vine over the swine and keep 'em shook |
And take the anaconda through the tunnels |
Through the Mecca where the piranha try to ball and style on the persona |
You know I keep it on the low like an iguana |
When the monikers never leave the crib without the llama in the. |