, my brother jungle, big Bo, cooks up the blow Mike'll chop it, mayo, you count the profit My shit is on the streets, this way the Jakes'll never stop
Singin' (Waaaah-wah-wah-waaaaah) (Shooby-doo-waaah) (Waaaah-wah-wah-waaaaah) They call me White Sinner, Black Martyr Livewire, Firestarter Jungle Brother
you gotta be sharp like a butcher knife subtly show up when the jooks is right and everything will have a major like whether it's black or white nobody
for your brother, kid Run for your team an' your six camp rhyme groupies So I can squeeze with the advantage an' get wasted My deadly notes reigns supreme Your fort is
breath's the only rhythm and the tempo is my time My enemy is hopelessness, my ally honest doubt The answer is a question that I never will find out Is
street drop it Chorus Verse 3: (yo Maestro, tell 'em what you wear) I wear a black tuxedo black tuxedo black-black-black (oh my God) a black tuxedo
f/ Baby Beech First Verse [SPM]: Hold up on the double, these boys want trouble They call me Flintstone and my homie is born Rubble Rebel, Devil, chase
see she with Shorty with the don Me and horse switch cars Jazz ruff for the six, this is it par Thug nigga never thought I get this far Who is that
long, you know my word is bond 'cause my rhymes are cock strong Like the fruit of islam, word to God yo Times is hard yo I'm just a regular brother coming
hundred-dollar kick rockin' kid's back for more Startin' gold wars, with black Reeboks and Velours Jungle royal life, livin' villain Packed with visions
seven No hear for four years, still multiplied by eleven The silence's a set back make 'em regret that One way to get back is violence and wet cats But hold your head black
is stressed And no rest forever weary, my eyes stay teary For all the brothers that are buried in the cemetery Shit is scary, how black on black crime
woofers in my jeep Black boy, black boy turn that shit down You know that america don't wanna hear the sound Of the bass drum jungle music go back to
woofers in my Jeep Black boy, black boy turn that shit down You know that America don't wanna hear the sound Of the bass drum jungle music go back to
to my beilifs tak a peice of the attitude She's not attracting me, stop harrassing me And now her man is trying to look like me Understand that I'm black
won't be laughing when your covered wagons crash You won't be laughing when the buzzards drag your brother's flags into rags You won't be laughing when your front lawn is
skind-ed i won't punch you in ya face (werd !) i be rumblin', runnin through the jungle with the apes have you stumblin, you brothas better pump up on