Concrete Jungles
[Verse 1: Sick Jacken]
They tell us don’t fight the feelin'
That’s why we’re spillin' this blood
These murder rates’ll just shoot through the ceiling
In the "Killing Fields" if the villain feels threatend or ridiculed
Someone is getting killed cuz the setting’s ill
Liquor stores on every corner, these kids don’t parks with a pop warner
They’re out here roaming these streets and popping shots on us
Pigs stick rocks on us, shove in dirty lock-ups
Watch for the beast and run the streets with your Glock up
[Verse 2: Crow]
Torture-machete lungs
Head to a gun, ready to run
Where you from? the jungle
Survival struggle trouble, knife juggle
Smuggle drugs and never fumble
Through dust intake rush and break a way to conquer yardage
My blocks are guarded, talk that garbage
A bloodbath where white chalk is tracing carnage
Fuck you sergeants
You faggot pigs that plant pieces, can eat your feces
Cuz when the test increases, my stress releases
Welcome to the world, endangered species
[Hook]
Well, well, well
We’re living and dying in the jungle
What’cha gotta say about it
Nothing at all
There’s nothing you can do but live it
[Verse 3: Crow]
The quick speed of a beast, set free the bullet spress
That's kinetically moving like telepathy, freeze
Think within blink, get left scarred
Hit hard, split your heart
Ripped apart, knocked off with a steel sawed-off
Blood is pourin', the life and times in Sick Side uniforms
Skin placards and white staffords, guerrilla newscasters
This is the last chapter, where we put guns to you actors
Have you speaking in tongues praying to your savior backward
[Verse 4: Sick Jacken]
These predators in the jungle that misbehave
Wear cascades and ben daves, heads shaved
Nike Cortez, inked up, they call us "Eses"
L.A.’s givin' me stress daze
My mother’s blessings protect my ass from catchin' a blast
These shell casings on murder scenes are telling a story without a word
It means you’re serving burgundy stains on curbs
Point to the first degree, we thirst to be king of the jungle
And so we burst the heat it’s your defeat
And this is the cycle in which we curse the street
[Hook]
Well, well, well
We’re living and dying in the jungle
What’cha gotta say about it
Nothing at all
There’s nothing you can do but live it