Young Nudy Jungle текст песни, слова песни Jungle Young Nudy
Young Nudy - Jungle
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 (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
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