Released: September 21, 2010
Featuring: Curren$y Jim Jones
Songwriter: Jim Jones Curren$y
Producer: Ski Beatz
[Intro]
Go! (go, go, go)
[Verse 1: Jim Jones]
Uh, this ain't spitting, this is monkey flipping
We keep guns on hip and, you don't want no friction
And of course we still run the shit and
No toilet bowl nigga, we still dopest shitting
On silly competition with their weak compilations
We be thirty deep, it's easy, we'll stomp your face in
Two hundred cash for them cars we racin'
And we want the cash even though its the root of Satan
Debatin', they love the way I floss 'em
The chicks say he's awesome, with no prejudice, it's just
I love a sexy bitch
White, black, yellow, purple, have them on some X and shit
Double stack, hopping out the bubble back
Porsche motherfucker, get your thoughts mother fucker
And some say I'm bipolar cause I stay high like the solar
[Hook: Jim Jones]
This is the concrete jungle, the game don't fumble
Stand tall like Mutombo, reporting like Bryant Gumble
And, I hope my name don't fumble out your mouth
Watch you mouth if the cops do come through
This is the concrete jungle, the game don't fumble
Stand tall like Mutombo
[Interlude]
Go! (go, go, go)
[Verse 2: Curren$y]
I'm a money machine, counting rap dollars at a sickening volume
While losers was counting on me not popping
Suckas was getting pissed since I was plotting
On taking ownership of all of this and I almost got it
Haters bump me on the low and don't tell nobody about it
Fuck it though, not another bar for the suckers
My bucket low, Arizona Grape flavored
In my cup holder, these cars may look alike
But yours is much slower, this the big dog motor
Should have saved up for it, but fools be in a rush
To touch something quick, you took the easy route
And copped a fucking V-6 with your lame ass
I'm pouring liquor on your bitches, Spitta, Dame Dash
Homeboy that's church like stained glass
Old school super goose, no brake pads
Go into the store and get some papers when the rain pass
Yeah
[Hook: Jim Jones]
This is the concrete jungle, the game don't fumble
Stand tall like Mutombo, reporting like Bryant Gumble
And, I hope my name don't fumble out your mouth
Watch you mouth if the cops do come through
This is the concrete jungle, the game don't fumble
Stand tall like Mutombo
[Outro]
Go! (go, go, go)
Go! (go, go, go)
[Verse 1: Jim Jones]
Uh, this ain't spitting, this is monkey flipping
We keep guns on hip and, you don't want no friction
And of course we still run the shit and
No toilet bowl nigga, we still dopest shitting
On silly competition with their weak compilations
We be thirty deep, it's easy, we'll stomp your face in
Two hundred cash for them cars we racin'
And we want the cash even though its the root of Satan
Debatin', they love the way I floss 'em
The chicks say he's awesome, with no prejudice, it's just
I love a sexy bitch
White, black, yellow, purple, have them on some X and shit
Double stack, hopping out the bubble back
Porsche motherfucker, get your thoughts mother fucker
And some say I'm bipolar cause I stay high like the solar
[Hook: Jim Jones]
This is the concrete jungle, the game don't fumble
Stand tall like Mutombo, reporting like Bryant Gumble
And, I hope my name don't fumble out your mouth
Watch you mouth if the cops do come through
This is the concrete jungle, the game don't fumble
Stand tall like Mutombo
[Interlude]
Go! (go, go, go)
[Verse 2: Curren$y]
I'm a money machine, counting rap dollars at a sickening volume
While losers was counting on me not popping
Suckas was getting pissed since I was plotting
On taking ownership of all of this and I almost got it
Haters bump me on the low and don't tell nobody about it
Fuck it though, not another bar for the suckers
My bucket low, Arizona Grape flavored
In my cup holder, these cars may look alike
But yours is much slower, this the big dog motor
Should have saved up for it, but fools be in a rush
To touch something quick, you took the easy route
And copped a fucking V-6 with your lame ass
I'm pouring liquor on your bitches, Spitta, Dame Dash
Homeboy that's church like stained glass
Old school super goose, no brake pads
Go into the store and get some papers when the rain pass
Yeah
[Hook: Jim Jones]
This is the concrete jungle, the game don't fumble
Stand tall like Mutombo, reporting like Bryant Gumble
And, I hope my name don't fumble out your mouth
Watch you mouth if the cops do come through
This is the concrete jungle, the game don't fumble
Stand tall like Mutombo
[Outro]
Go! (go, go, go)