Текст песни Doin' Our Own Dang - Jungle Brothers
Me,
plug
three,
the
one
they
call
baby
Huey
The
one
that
gets
all
the
money
(all
the
money)
Yeah,
that's
right
A
fat,
funky
fruit
with
a
whole
lot
of
tang,
a
little
something
called
doing
our
own
thang
Breaking
the
beat
others
worse
they
broke,
bass
line
so
dope
that
you
just
might
choke
Don't
bite
off
something
that
you
can't
chew,
and
don't
trail
behind
when
I'm
coming
through
Fronting
the
feel
that
you
really
can't
feel
'cause
you're
trying
to
feel
what's
on
my
reel
to
reel
A
tree
is
growing,
can't
you
see
what
I
see?
A
white
blue
fruit
to
boot
We
count
to
ten
before
we
pass
the
crews,
now
that's
family
Equipped
with
the
brothers
and
the
sisters,
and
the
sisters
and
the
brothers
And
all
others
With
the
funky
flairs,
the
bugged-out
hairs
It's
the
life
of
Riley,
I'm
really
ready
Gazing
at
the
dollar
fill
of
rap,
the
cool
June
bugs,
the
wicks,
the
wacks
Praise
the
rhythms
for
what
it
beez,
and
praise
the
lord
for
the
J.
B's
We're
doin'
our
own
dang
(we're
doin'
our
own
dang)
We're
doin'
our
own
dang
(we're
doin'
our
own
dang)
We're
doin'
our
own
dang
(we're
doin'
our
own
dang)
We're
doin'
our
own
dang
(we're
doin'
our
own
dang)
Isn't
it
cool
when
you
cut
your
hand
and
the
blood
is
red
instead
of
sellout
green?
This
is
not
the
music
for
an
R&B
mind,
this
is
flower
intertwined
with
a
vine
(In
other
words,
this
is
rose)
you
see
what
I
mean?
Or
see
what
grandpa
Bam
saw
The
funk
we
transmit
is
unstable,
one
condition
if
I
am
able
to
say
(Yes,
you
may)
well
hey,
let's
get
on
with
it
Vocal
confetti
is
thrown,
sometimes
spitted,
out
the
vents
of
hecklers
and
fans
Either
which
way
they
all
hop
on
the
van,
the
band,
the
band,
here
comes
the
band
The
tribe
of
fingers
all
on
one
hand,
me,
myself,
and
I
is
dark
Monie
love
the
mouthpiece,
it's
now
yours
to
spark
Sister
Monie,
the
only
one
here
who
missed
a
plane
back
to
London
Residing
with
my
brothers
and
I
learned
a
lot
from
them
About
the
group,
how
to
be
smooth
and
play
funky
And
sometimes
rated,
it's
kind
of
funky,
but
it's
cool
For
we
are
beyond
the
stereotypes,
coordination
crazy,
but
still
it
sounds
hype
Rocking
on
and
off
beat,
and
I
do
believe
I'm
right
(you're
right)
Am
I
wrong?
(Yeah,
son)
Don't
be
mad,
be
glad
I
missed
the
plane,
I'm
staying
With
the
brothers'
Jungle,
soul,
and
the
tribe
I'm
saying
Funky-funky
rhymes
that
always
stay
in
swing
I
believe
we
doing
our
own
thing
We're
doin'
our
own
dang
(we're
doin'
our
own
dang)
We're
doin'
our
own
dang
(we're
doin'
our
own
dang)
We're
doin'
our
own
dang
(we're
doin'
our
own
dang)
We're
doin'
our
own
dang
(we're
doin'
our
own
dang)
Well,
my
family
sets
all
the
trends,
from
soul
to
soul,
large
to
lose
ends
And
I'm
inside
groups
like
kill?
('Cause
that's
where
the
money's
at)
Yeah,
the
industry's
filled
with
copycats,
R&B
mixed
with
sloppy
raps
Tribes
like
us
always
open
doors,
but
what
for?
So
you
can
get
yours?
You
ain't
in
to
it,
all
you
want
is
profit,
so
I
ask
you
please
to
stop
it
Leave
me
alone,
get
off
my
bone
'cause
I'm
doing
my
own
thang
A
new
seed,
a
new
breed,
a
new
man
you
to
feed
the
greed
A
new
pair
of
boots
for
a
new
piece
of
butt
Sweet
daddy,
are
you
there?
(Sammy
B
is
on
the
cut!)
Spinning
back
for
a
rap
that's
laid
back,
ready
to
kick
back,
those
get
no
slack
I
may
rock
a
rhyme,
or
I
may
start
to
sing,
but
still,
I'm
doing
my
own
thing
In
comes
the
mood
of
jungle
and
daisies,
play
the
same
and
let
the
vibes
grace
me
All
hold
hands
and
let's
walk
about,
and
form
a
circle
and
talk
about
Don't
follow
the
path
that
we're
stepping,
truth
to
the
soul
is
what
I'm
cramming
Reasons
for
this
is
that
the
family's
strong,
and
like
Bob
Marley
said,
"We're
jammin'"
Seeing
is
believing,
so
see
and
believe,
and
let
the
groove
of
the
new
proceed
A
whole
bunch
of
love,
peace
signs,
and
fun,
so
let's
do
what's
got
to
be
done,
you
know?
And
personally
I
feel,
you
know,
we're
doing
our
own
thing,
you
know
No
stereotype
or
anything
like
that,
and
I
believe
that's
a
healthy
thing
to
do,
what
do
you
think?
But
now
I
feel
like...
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