The jungle creed

The jungle creed

STREET PLAYERSThe jungle creedSays the strong must feedOn any prey at handSo branded as beastVickie sat down at feastAnd learned that her prey Was man.By Donald GoinesStreet Players 2001-2002 or,The Response from DreBy Andre Austin ãThe new jungle is concreteThe strong maintaining a grip on the streetsOr else they shrink into the sandPlayers feed on shrimpRunaways, drug addicts get pimpedAnd the Mob keeps them on the landPimps what are we to do with youSoliciting customers for sex is what u doA sand box is goodA coffin made from woodCover it up with concreteSlaying you down from head to feetThen throw it into the seaSo there will never beAnother Pimp, Player and HustlerFor the community to seeThis poem was taken from Donald Goines book “Street Players” (1973) in which he dedicated to his daughter (? Unbelievable). Donald Goines was a Detroit, Michigan thug who turned writer after spending time in the Jackson State Prison. Goines was unable to get out of the street life and was gunned down by another thug.The movie “Deep Cover” sampled from this poem through the mouth of actor Lawrence Fishbone in the early 1990’s.

Bushwick Bill – Wha Cha Gonna Do? Lyrics

Artist: Bushwick BillAlbum: Phantom of the RapraSong: Wha Cha Gonna Do?

And ahh… the secret of the hidden temple is that ahhYou gotta listen, as I run it down the business

The jungle creed, is that the strongest feeds, on any prey it canAnd I was branded beast, at every feast, before I became a man

Hahaha! Full swing for the jungleJohn Bido in the house, it’s a black man thing you wouldn’t understand

Chorus:

What cha gonna do when the world’s on fire?I’ma light a spliff, and keep gettin higherThe world’s bout to endI don’t give a fuckI ain’t scared to die, niggas put that on Chuck

Verse One:

Put me in a room with four gats and four clipsAimed at my dome and I bet I won’t flinchAt least I get to know I’m going out in a blastSo either pull the trigger or you tricks better mashCause I ain’t afraid to kill neitherI snatch your soul like the motherfuckin grim reaperI be the, man that worries not about lifeI’d rather piss in the wind than take a risk with eyes, yeahA brave man dies once, but a coward dies a thousand deathsFuck a right, I make a thousand leftsCause I’m a motherfuckin thrillseekerYou can’t scare me with no bullshit threats, I ain’t afraid to die

Chorus 2X

Verse Two:

The world is on some old new-improved shitThey building bombs everyday but screaming peaceA piece of pussy nowaday could cost a nigga lifeThe condom ain’t shit, the rubber breaks and that’s your lifeBabies havin babies knowin not what to doFor some grown ass men, niggas old as me and youThink a nigga fuck a kid needs his motherfuckin dick chopped offCause youse a child molester, that ain’t cool motherfuckerMamas keeping sons from their daddiesWhat you sposed to teach him bitch? You ain’t no man, youse a hoMonkey see, monkey doWhat you want my son to act like me or act like you, shitI’m on the verge of suicide, so what’s murder?Another casuality, cause mentally I’m damaged GSo I ain’t afraid, I ain’t afraid to killAnd I ain’t afraid to die, motherfucker

Chorus 2X

Verse Three:

A punk can be controlled by death threatsA man’s not a man if he can’t take a stand and ummConfront your foes nigga everybody bleedsSo fuck bowing down to another nigga’s needsCuriousity, killed the catAnd anybody gettin curious with mines is gettin disciplined blackI lets the motherfuckin fo’-fo’ clickAnd that’s the end of that big bad nigga shit [see-ya!]How can you be afraid of what’s bound to happenYou can’t run and try to hide from deathDeath is univited, it’s also at a shitty timeThings can creep and snatch your ass up out your prime, I lives my lifeAgressively, succesfully, I press to beDemanding with myself and not profess to beYou can’t impress me with no bullshit threatsI squabble any motherfucker out your set, motherfucker

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