Sometimes I sit on the bench just to watch the game
Feet on cement, there ain't a mobster living I could name
Who made it out rich, in his absence I do not proclaim
To not have a heart like wild animals not tamed
Maybe just a typical thug nikka was my rank
'Cept I had a vision above nikkas, what I think
It's crazy how many brothers come where I come from
Some made it out big, some dead, some unsung
Shots for soldiers on 23 hours lock-up
Younger generation, they want to mimic and mock us
Laughing, separating themselves like they not us, like
"Cops'll look at you like they look at me? That's preposterous"
Ain't it gangsta how your man made it? I'm humble
One gun, one crazy ass nikka, that's Jungle
Now we having babies, cause growing up it was just us
No uncles or cousins to fight with us, we was fukked up
But still it was beautiful, the love is mutual
Even though me and Jung ain't show up to your funeral
I hold your son hand, tell him he the man, we love you
Your pops was king, you have a whole lot to live up to
The G is in your genes, already you tuck
Inherit your dad's swag, it's George Jefferson's strut
Stay flyest, they gon' want to know what in your diet
Don't be surprised if they want to check your shyt and your vomit
Tell them you let it marinate, they swear you made them a promise
No matter what they do, you just stay a man of honor
I'm a street corner nikka, New York Knicks loyalist
Corona sipper, pass it out, might blow it with you
It ain't the Truman show; it's the human show
Ask the F.B.I. agent at his cubicle
Chews on his pencil eraser with intents to erase you
Young brother go and get your paper, I got love