Jungle - Young Nudy

Shoo, shoo, uh, shoo, shoo, uh, shoo, uh, shoo

I’m a real one, know what’s happenin'

Shoo

I’m in the jungle (I'm in the jungle)

I am a jungle boy (Boy)

I got them sticks, yeah (Sticks)

Don’t come through the jungle, boy (Jungle)

Know we gotta stick with tree

Know we smoke all the tree

Smokin' big Cali weed (Cali)

I’m from Paradise East (Paradise)

I been ballin', right?

(Ballin')

Livin' life like I’m in paradise (Yeah)

Whole lotta money got me livin' right

Y’all niggas ain’t livin' right

Stomach hurt, you ain’t feelin' right

Bitches hate to be in my life

I’ll tell a ho, «Fuck your life»

Hurt a bitch feelin' all the time

I’m gettin' money, yeah, all the time

Bitches always hittin' my line

Bitch, ain’t no fuckin' ho, get out my spot

Bitch, this a real trap spot

Know the block stay hot

Know them Glocks hangin' out

Young niggas hangin' out

In the street with them 30's hangin' out

Yeah, bitch, you wanna see

Come in the hood, yeah, I am O.G.

I be smokin' lotta weed, sip lean

Baby girl, R.I.P.

to Pimp C

All the lean made 'em follow me

In the streets, man, they follow me

Niggas hatin' 'cause these niggas can’t follow me

Pussy nigga, boy, don’t start with me

I got shooters wanna see, where you niggas like to head

Like where you be, we gon' pull up where you be

Hunnid round drum put a nigga straight to sleep

Now your hood screamin' R.I.P.

(R.I.P.)

Everybody wearin' t-shirts

Yeah, I know that they shit hurtin' (Oh ya)

Yeah, you don’t wanna see

Don’t wanna see your homie on white tees

Man, you niggas better pull up with white flags

'Fore you end up in white bags

Y’all niggas out here playin', I’ll pull up on a nigga

Spin a nigga so fast

Matter of fact, I got money just to spend

My nigga goin' hit up your friends

I ain’t with the talkin' shit 'cause all the talkin' for the bitches

And I be fuckin' all these bitches, so why you actin' like a bitch

I hit you with the stick, Glock hold a dick

I ain’t with that shit, shoot a nigga, put him on his period

I ain’t with the beefin' shit, period

'Cause when it come to beef, shit get serious

I’m shootin' at mama and children

Y’all niggas ain’t with that type of shit

I’m with all that type of shit

Yeah, kidnap your bitch

Gettin' money, yeah, I’m bout that shit

Hold your bitch for ransom

I got a stick, make her dancer