(This is the place you've been hearing so much about; the jungle. It's hot, it's sticky and uncomfortable. Full of insects as well as the enemy.) [excerpt from an official Army training film, Personal Health in the Jungle]
[The bu*tress]
I put the belladonna in the eye drops for enhanced optics
I'm watching the pond fronds dance in the tropics
High off the trance inducement fumes arise from rocks
Singing songs with the frogs in the lagoon
Lost prophetess, who?
Monsoon is brewing to consume you and your entire platoon
When? Soon! Keep it moving
Surprise, the driest of our horizon
High sea rise in a bad moon
Hear the voice of raging ruin
Don't go back, it's a trap, she's waiting there with Jak
The patron saint of pain, the lady Macbeth of rap
They tried with all their might but they could not deliver
From out the heart of darkness, bu*tress and Jak Tripper
(May you live forever.)
(It really isn't tough to stay on your feet in the jungle. You've got the best weapons in the world. You have that added insurance, your jungle kit; Iodine, band-aids and dressing, wound tablets, insect repellent, and water purification tablets.) [more from Personal Health in the Jungle]
[Jak Tripper]
I'm dope ocher and h**n
Me and the folk h**ne bu*tress
Like Joan of Arc yelling holy messages
Goat empress, cult heretics
We skin humans down to the ghosts and expose skeletons
I dead lift stone megaliths
My entrance like a Persian king robed elegant
My face pierced with the finest of gold rings and a throned elephant
I smoke Camels til my throat hemorrhages
Emphysema all in my chest like Joe Henderson
In front of a panel of psychics I watch my body from out of body jolt trembling
A thousand electric volts were sent through it
My burner slowly creep out from a trench-coat like a land snail antenna tip
Cult leader, treacherous, stone genuine
I'm no Xenophon, freak power, up for election
Shooting that dope, we want the senate sick
I'll drive to your pregnant chick crib, shoot up the whole development
You know shoot up the whole development