(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