B.o.B.

B.o.B. - Welcome to the jungle lyrics

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Yeah, uh, uh, on the battlefield, I am the commander in
The war between the worlds, time to wheel the cannons in
I’m out here salamandering, they out here slandering
Try to smear a niggas image down, damn who’s the camera man

Where’s the man to man talk, what a fock, get up off the nipple, man
Let your momma have a mammogram, busting like Sammy Sam
Niggas can’t even see me on the beat, like a blind pianist at a band exam
But fuck a punch line, fuck a metaphor
Fock the niggas who said they wasn’t feeling me before

Life is like a movie, I just write the score
Let me dumb it down, maybe you can understand me more
I got no time for this shock jock, get up above my cock
Put the mic. down, you’re looking sixty four
I’m guessing I’m the nigga that they love to hate
But they still watch a nigga, and they pay attention more

Closer to my words, and closer you observe
Trying to decipher the flow you niggas know this shit is absurd
You notice every verb and adjective and every syllable
And why compare to me there is nobody who’s identical

Instrumental general, Grand Hustle emerald
I’m ballin’ over here, give a fock about your interviews
Niggas talk, hoes too, but they know I’m one of the coldest overall and general
The more I ball the more the haters run

When you fock the game, the problems gonna come
Back down never, I’m never known to run
Fock life and get high, that’s what I call overcoming obstacles
Get up of my tosticles, I got the sun to control
I’m callin’ audibles, I know what I gotta do
When you travel on this road, man after a while
Nobody’s either on the side of you
Reaching out the other artists for a wider view
In reality artists just don’t have the time for you

It is what it is, I don’t take it personal
But it’s a jungle out, and lions don’t eat vegetables.
I mean veggies, I’m all about my
I don’t smoke and I’m never on the reggie
I’m going full speed, but I don’t know where I’m heading
So keep up my yard and never touch my hedges
Uh, I’m on the edge, you should never cross the line
Niggas feel safe when they’re online
But I’m out here touring, they out here keyboarding
I’m bout to show what the fock a high score is
So let me do this for east side bitch, decatuer GA, on six

Call it what you want, but real recognize real
So the hush niggas don’t even exist
AUh, Grand Hustle, yeah, it’s B.o.B
Said free T.I.P, now the nigga back
So now we gonna see what’s up and what’s good
Bobby Ray coming to your neighborhood
Strange Clouds, dropping soon, yeah, that’s what’s up, good news
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

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Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: (Not on label)

Details:

Released in: 2011

Language: English

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