Concrete Jungle: accordi di
Boogie
Boogie
Stampa

N/A2 visualizzazioni
Tonalità: Bb minor
Verse 1
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Viva in the
Funk
House
Viva in the
Funk
House
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Eb

Give me the first one's house
Viva, doot, street
Give me my money
Give me my money
My money
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F

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How you gonna take my money
How you gonna take my
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motherfucking money
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I just told you how it is
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You making my cash get money
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You making my cash get money
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Fm

I told you how
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Ab

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F

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I told you how is
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F
F

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F

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F
F

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Boom is all I heard on the air
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Slippin' like a motherfucker
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layin' in a bloodbath
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F
F

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A nigga got his cap peeled,
died instantly
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F
F

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Robbed for his grip,
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brain all over the streets
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Twenty years old,
livin' his life in the fast lane
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Was known as the jacker,
now all the jackin' got him tamed
But shit happened so fast in the 90s, slam
So it's best to shoot first,
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F

then ask questions
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Then this shit get hectic,
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you feuding with another nigga from a different set with his
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homie foolish, tossing stuff,
busting at your ass
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F
F

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No time to dash,
shit is happening too fast
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Bitches do the same shit, kids even shoot
quick
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No matter how they act,
bullets coming through
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bricks, coming over dum b shit
Most I level up on, bitch,
put the tomes down
Square up niggas,
throw fists and see who's standing
When all the dust clears, nowadays
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F

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Niggas are killin' from the gas up for pills
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F

So never am I slippin' cause
my life I can't fumble
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But shit is fucked up in the fuckin'
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concrete jungle, yeah
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It's a bitch comin' up in the jungle
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F
F

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Niggas gettin' it like a stone
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in the fuckin' humble
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So I pack a motherfuckin'
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nine in the vehicle
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F
F

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Come in with that whole shit and get your fuckin' ass
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F

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beatin'
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F

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F
F

Yeah it's do or die,
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but I remember when only the strong survived
But nowadays even real niggas die
I keep the
Glock under my shirt and
keep my eyes open
Two extra clips for some
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fast ass reloads
Shoot to kill,
to make sure ain't no coming back
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F

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But still I sit and pray that
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it don't come to that
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This past year,
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F
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I've lost too many close niggas
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If I'm around and
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shit goes down then
I'ma pull the trigger
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Cause I be down to get hit
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by a straight bullet
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A bad shot,
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they need to get that ass popped
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By a
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Glock, or something of that sort
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And to a level madness
is like the newest sport
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But nowadays niggas
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are living like animals
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Ain't comin' up in the jungle,
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this shit is understandable
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But still I got to find me some type of way
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To get my motherfuckin'
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ass out of the
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CJ
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She's a bitch comin' up in the jungle
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Niggas gettin' it like stone,
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motherfuckin' humble
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So I pack a motherfuckin' napkin
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F
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Call me with that hoe,
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she gon' get ya fuckin' napkin
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It's like a jungle sometimes,
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it makes me wonder
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It's like a jungle sometimes,
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it makes me wonder
Shit's fucked up,
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tryna make it out this bitch
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Pops tried to tell me way back
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when I was still a kid
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F
F

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That only wanted to hang in the
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streets with my homies
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And now it feels as if my fuckin'
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streets grown on me
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People think it's funny,
because I'm a
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Nashvillian
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Home of country music,
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but country music we ain't feel in'
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They never will,
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I'm from another side of the bill
Where it's either nigga killer,
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get your nap peeled
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Third
F is my mother,
AKA
Tang
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When niggas do dirt,
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put in work like it ain't no thang
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Often harassed,
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because I snorted off of grass
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I act a ass,
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until it's time to make cash
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I hate to slang,
but I'm a straight dropout
And sell it dope, it's what my life is all about
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I know someday the dope
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game is gonna crumble
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F

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But hopefully, I'm already out the jungle
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It's a bitch coming up in the jungle
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Niggas getting their life star
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ted motherfuckin' humble
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So I pack a motherfuckin' napkin, yeah
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Come in with that hoe,
she will get ya fuckin' napkin
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It's like a joke sometimes,
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it makes me wanna fuck
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It's like a joke sometimes,
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it makes me wanna fuck
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Yeah, this is for my niggas that
unfortunately didn't make it
My nigga
Putt,
Pooh,
Woodstock,
Shawna,
Nate,
Lil
Mike,
Mike
Stewart, and my fuckin' fuckin'
tankster, you know what I'm sayin'?
Keno, you know what I'm sayin'?
Much love, rest in peace, man,
I'm outta here, yeah
you

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