Mobsquad Nard - Jungle lyrics

[Chorus x 6: 1200 Yak] It goes down in that jungle [Verse 1: MobSquad Nard] b**h I'm loaded posted on third street Pops on my line west first street sh** hot I called up Dre beezy Cuh come scoop me cuh cuz my play need me Gotta dirty pistol witta lotta rounds Pops thru da city brung about a pound A n***a hit my line a say he need to sco Hang up on em I need to kno I b gettin fetti in da jungle n***a Got a Pistol on me never fumble n***a I ain't never had to play up under n***as Got my own grind I f** wit wonder n***as Mob Boss up and runnin n***a Me n 12 yak finna punish n***as Dre n Dread gettin money n***a n***a datz bloodline 100 n***a All us in Unti house on a pissy mattress in da jungle n***a Grim in nucci in a stolen car New Jersey drive bout slumpin n***as Brian sell dope all day N kept straight drop for dem cluckas n***a And comin up dem was my favorite cousins got my game from em I love da n***as In my daddy house a n***a stole zips a n***a stole pounds Cinnabon ya n***a Go outside a n***a best friend got sentenced life last Monday n***a Keep my fye its a dirty world n***a it's man down on a Sunday n***a Keep k**ers round cuz dey comin n***a Real ni**aZ round me no funny n***as [Chorus ] [Verse 2: 1200 yak] [Verse 3: MobSquad Nard] At nighttime it be dead quiet when da k**az slide in yo section n***a And dey turnt up want dead bodies got da bullets flying no questions n***a N Deez dawg hoes f** 10 n***as n 2 days off back page better keep a rubber for protection n***a Better keep a cutter for protection thuggin In my city n***a check da murder rate Police k**ing so much murder play I just bought my chick another 38 She hate to have to crack a n***a vertebrate I was gettin money wit her cousin Pull off from the jungle pop em for da 38 Never been da one to have a dirty face I mob boss a n***a for da dirty cake I'm finna turn my section into California Call me Boston George but witta dirty Kay I been up n runnin doin numbers Ion feed leach n***as I on servem weight n***a keep da money in da cicle game from da old n***as is the dirty way Street n***as call da sh** da gutta way Choppa hitchu make u do a cutaway n***a round dis b**h dead broke dead bored dying bout notta thang Catch grand theft no joy stick no bond money it's not a game Lotta p**y n***as in dat jungle lyin behind clothes doors they not a mane All da d** n***as runnin outta brains All da thug n***as tryna run it up it goes down