Concrete Jungle - 9th Prince

Aiyo, I spit a verse that’ll put ya’ll niggas in a hearse

Straight out the soil of the Shaolin dirt

Tommy Hillfiger slippers, fine wine sippers

N.Y.C.

killas, Slick Rick is slick, but 9th Prince is slicker

All this talk about Drake and Nicki Minaj

They got 'Young Money', but Wu-Tang still living large

RZA parked the Maserati inside the garage

We ain’t home, we at the Mirage, partying hard

Shoot at the devil for wearing Prada, verbal globetrotter

Microphone doctor, never wore silk but I’m still the shocker

Sit back and laugh with my own staff

On corny rappers trying to live out they past

You ask and your raps is trash

I’m rough like Bronze Nazareth beats, and smooth like jazz

Concrete jungle…

Concrete jungle…

Aiyo, I’m starting to get restless, I aim the best to test it

See me hanging out with Bill Murray and the GZA in Texas

My catalog manifest through the analog

Sit down and relax and have a conversation with God, Pelle Pelle leather

I’m heavyweight, ya’ll niggas is lightweight, lighter than a feather

Whatever, Killarm' let’s get together

Return of the Six Men Wetting, in your area

Live from a hundred and fifty-fifth

Shoot the gift, that’s swift, when I uplift the four-fifth

Welcome the party crashers, cut you in your face, slash ya

Make your body disappear, abracadabra

Your stranded in another hemisphere, I’m dressed in military gear

Sincere verbal warfare, put me on the top of your list

With Rakim and Nas, Kool G. Rap, Slick Rick and a few other guys

But that’s it, I split niggas wigs and shit

I wild out like Jesus with a hoodie, sipping on wine

Talk like a bully when I rhyme

Arts and crafts, money flows and hoes and bubble baths

Ya’ll niggas know what time it is out there

9th Prince and my man Division

We up in here, escaping the wordly prison

You know, 9th Prince slapping ya’ll bitch ass niggas

Check it out, yeah yeah I’m out of here, out of here

Killa Sin, come home, son

Killarmy, what up, niggas?

Wu-Tang