The Jungle Got the Keys

The Jungle Got the Keys ist ein rauer, atmosphärischer Boom-Bap-Track in einem verlassenen Brooklyn. Die Straßen sind leer, der Beton reißt auf und Wurzeln dringen durch die alte Stadt.
Staubige Drums, zerhacktes Noir-Piano, verfallene Bässe und eine düstere Underground-Stimmung lassen den Track wie eine verschollene Cypher von 1993 klingen, die aus einem überfluteten U-Bahn-Tunnel dringt. Stille Dächer, kaputte Straßen, überwucherte Basketballplätze, versunkene Gleise und moosbedeckte Gebäude bilden eine kalte, nasse Welt.
Der Song erzählt davon, wie die Natur Stahl, Geld, Sirenen und Beton die Macht wieder abnimmt. Eine dunkle Hip-Hop-Reise durch urbanen Verfall, ein regennasses Brooklyn und die langsame Rache der Wurzeln.

Originaltext

City thought the concrete was permanent
Now the jungle got the keys

Concrete ribcage roots through the rebar
Black vines spread where the burnt trains are
Tenement skeletons split from the pressure
Nature stay quiet but it still collect ya
Rain smack rooftops off the fire escape rails
Cold wind whistle through the piss stained halls
Whole avenue shift when the asphalt cave
Moss on the squad car parked by the grave
Fox curled asleep in the back of the cruiser
Kudzu wrapped tight round the courthouse boosters
Street signs buried under fernleaf clusters
Brickface rot where the fiends once slumbered
Empire State faded out in the fog
Top floors drowned under mildew and smog
No more sirens tearing holes in the night
Transformer sparks flicker ghost blue light
Power grid dead while the borough still wheeze
Roots in the pipes underneath the streets
Tree limbs burst through the church floor tile
Vines in the pulpit growing cathedral wild
Old world rust while the new growth spread
Steel lost faith when the soil got fed
Jungle took the city inch by inch
Now the vines hold court where the killers once lived

Ain't no rent in the jungle now
Concrete crack when the roots push out
Overgrown borough
Nature took the block

Ferns in the furnace branches in the stairwell
Rain hit metal like debris downstairs
Windows all blind from the mildew stains
Wild grass crawl through elevator chains
Basketball rims got vines hanging low
Deer move silent through the Flatbush snow
No more neon buzzing over liquor stores
Moonlight spill through the busted doors
Streetlights fossilized deep in the weeds
Mother Earth move slow never retreat
Wall Street drowned under kudzu and steam
Bank vaults cracked full of fungus and green
Blueprints soaked black in the sewer flood
Architect ghosts in the mildew dust
Subway tunnels flooded up to the ceiling
Rat kings move silent through drowned out buildings
Tree roots wrapped round the judge's house
Precinct walls cracked when the vines pushed out
Brownsville reborn through decay and flood
New Eden bloom from the oil and blood
Planet cracked knuckles swallowed the map
Took back the borough and never looked back

The city thought steel meant forever
But roots memorize everything