An exploration of poverty:
A young girl is sent to her neighborhood playground but her imagination does not escape the realities of poverty
lyrics
[Verse One]
Well daddy left me in the jungle
Told me mind my business, I'm searching for trouble
Red shirt, dirty overalls, muddier knuckles
Knuckle ash, four-square, block done got hot as a sauna
Sandbox tippin 'round the edges and fall in the lava
Me and my people bagging niggas for practical targets
A couple chicken-heads was clucking adjusting their garments
Garbage
Tumbleweeding off the stoop
Couple junkies under jungle-gyms was tweaking off the juice
Got heads and pot holes
And pills and cracked rocks
A girl from a good home
Met boys from the bad blocks
And now she's out with Peter Piper picking your padlocks
Bottle-popping partners in a schoolyard backdrop
Puberty, Scarface, the pimples connect dots
The boy bullied came back BB's in lunchbox
On some load-aim-fire with his Osh Kosh hat cocked
Pellet hit the kindergartener who hit the floor
Ricocheted off another sucker, 'nother open sore
On some "Nah, Nah, wassup"
Heads go up, we bust 'em up
And shots was fired at em while some girls was playing double-dutch
And caught in the crosshairs
Of playground warfare
[Hook]
The Jungle
Told me mind my business, I'm searching for trouble
Red shirt, dirty overalls, muddier knuckles
Knuckle ash, four-square, block done got hot as a sauna
Sandbox tippin 'round the edges
The Monsters
The Jungle
Told me mind my business, I'm searching for trouble
Red shirt, dirty overalls, muddier knuckles
Knuckle ash, four-square, block done got hot as a sauna
Sandbox tippin 'round the edges