Welcome to the Concrete Jungle

[False Start: Juelz Santana,
DJ Drama
DJ drops
Welcome to the concrete jungle
Got snakes, got bears, got lions, no muzzles (No muzzles)
And they all tryin to cause me trouble
Got the big trey-8, long nose, no muzzle (Gangsta Gri-Zillz!)
Hold up, hold up!
[Spoken: Juelz Santana &
DJ drops
Ayy, ayy! Hold up, Drama, where you get that shit from, nigga? Man,
that’s exclusive! Run that the fuck back! Ayy!
The Aphilliates, nigga, pay attention!
[Intro: Juelz Santana &
DJ Drama
DipSet, ugh
Weezy, holla at me (
You know how we do!
Ayy, ayy
[Verse 1: Juelz Santana,
DJ Drama
DJ drops
Lil Wayne
Welcome to the concrete jungle
Got snakes, got bears, got lions, no muzzles (No muzzles)
And they all tryna cause me trouble
Got the big trey-eight, long nose, no muzzle (Gangsta Gri-Zillz!Ill!)
Back up off me, shorty—if not? Surely—
That piece’ll come off me shortly (Shortly)
My hood breed gangstas, boy
You wanna be down? Let’s see now; no, thank you, boy (Nope)
My niggas’ll fish-filet you, boy
Then go and tell your moms to get the paper, boy (Yup)
Your son is no longer just a paperboy
He’s front-page on the paper, boy, read about him (Look)
Extra, extra, read about it! (Look)
While we get twisted, laugh, and smoke weed about it (Look)
And can’t nobody do a thing about it
'Cause they’ll be in the same boat—literally, the same boat (Yup, yup)
Floating 'cross the same sea (Yup)
Through the same water (Yup)
Don’t fuck with them same G’s (Yup)
Don’t fuck wit that man, please (Yup,
yeah, yeah
Don’t fuck wit his money, don’t fuck with his gangrene (
Gangsta Gri-Zillz!
[Verse 2: Lil Wayne &
DJ drops
Aim, squeeze, Wayne be on the back streets
Shotty on the back seat—fuck 'em, if you ask me
Make 'em look, but them niggas can’t look past me
Pass the weed to the next nigga—that's me
Let’s see: B-E-N-Z, A-M-G
21 inches, and I got them bitches skin-deep
Tempt me, and anything can happen, I ain’t rapping
I ain’t shootin at you soldiers, bitch, I’m going for the captain
I ain’t shooting at your shoulders, bitch, I’m going for your cap, and I—
Won’t stop cappin 'til your wings start flapping, and you—
You just an angel in the streets full of gangstas, and—
Me, I’m from the home where murder make you famous, and—
I think I’m 'bout to get that trench off the hanger
And the mask out the drawer, but I never hide the banger, I’m a—
Straight player, if you love her, don’t bring her
I’ll tell her a lil' shit, like, I can make her ass a singer, and she—
Believe that, we back at the crib, she like:
«How it shoot if it’s plastic, for real?»
I’m like, «Fall back, ma, your ass need to chill»
Then she rolled on my dick like an ecstasy pill, haha
I smoke Beverly Hills, whatever—that kill
That leave a nigga with that heavenly feel, yeah
Step, and I will step in your grill, yeah
Leave a nigga with that heavenly feel, yeah (
Gangsta Gri-Zillz!