Doin' Our Own Dang Lyrics - Singles - The Jungle Brothers

Me, Plug Three, the one they call Baby Huey 

The one that gets all the money 

All the money 

Maybe 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 wished they broke 

Baseline 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 the 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 being, and praise the Lord for the JB's 

We're doing our own thang 

We're doing our own thang 

We're doing our own thang 

We're doing our own thang 

Isn't it cool when you cut your hair 

And the blood is red instead of sellout green 

This is not the music for an R n' 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 

Co-ordination crazy, but still it sounds hype 

Rocking off and on beat, and I do believe I'm right, you're right 

Am I wrong? Yes, son 

Don't be mad, be glad I missed the plane, I'm staying 

With my 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 doing our own thang 

We're doing our own thang 

We're doing our own thang 

We're doing our own thang 

Well my family sets all the trends 

From soul to soul, large to lose ends 

And I all my groups like kill? 

'Cause that's where the money's at honey 

Yeah, the industry's filled with copycats 

R n' 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 

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 thang 

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 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?