| Backed by the Baby Bam Beat, the rare groove
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| Jungle Brothers, no competition and nothin' to prove
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| Want me to be on your family tree
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| But you’re all about yourself which won’t allow me to be
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| You see I’m the kind of brother that gets up on the stage
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| To get down for the people that came and paid
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| I throw on my uniform, but not to get pretty
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| Show no shame, feel no pity
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| You all showed up and I’m glad you came
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| Still the same person everything’s the same
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| Once again I show towards you all due respect
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| But my main concern for now is keepin' things in check
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| Hands in the air and everybody will sing
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| As they hang on the my rhythm like the beeds on my string
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| My soul sings a funky song, as the beat goes on and on
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| Another day gone and still learnin' my right from wrong
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| The party’s gettin' packed as I turn up the bass more
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| The meter’s goin' crazy up and down like a see-saw
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| Takin' off my crown, to give my lo, lo, lo, locks a breath
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| I wanna stop myself but I still got some rhyme left
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| Uncle Sam breaks it down as everybody shakes the butt
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| Brothers gettin' happy lettin' out the longin' nutt
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| Hands in the air and everybody will sing
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| As they cling on the rhythm like the beeds on my string
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| You know what
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| Sisters on the side sayin' get on get on
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| Brothers everywhere sayin' «jump on it
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| Can’t get enough of what I’m doin' here
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| Well the picture is painted, the message is clear
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| Here, the beeds are the people, the string is the vibe
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| The vibe is what mentally connects the tribe
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| Once you get on it you can’t get off it
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| You fell off beat, well baby doll you lost it
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| Maybe next week of even the next beat
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| Makes you feel at home, beats up against your dome
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| Find yourself inside an African syndrome
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| Found your culture, brother I told you
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| Black is beautiful, green is powerful
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| You was afraid, that’s why you stayed away
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| The true blue brothers, they followed me anyway
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| I gave 'em alternative, found a new way to live
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| Somethin' that’s positive which I thought was good to give
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| A whole lot of tribes of us, feelin' the vibes from us
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| Everybody’s down, nobody’s ridin' us
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| Hands in the air and everybody will sing
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| As they hang on to my rhythm like the beeds on my string
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| Now everybody pump your first as we proceed to leave this place
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| Step into a zone where there’s no mind for color or face
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| Do what you’re doing 'cause the vibe ain’t over yet
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| You learned a little something and I hope that you don’t forget
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| The vibe has no color, just a cause and a tempo
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| Hold on tight, 'cause we can’t help if you let go
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| Children are the future, so let them lead the way
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| Carry our nation to a brighter and better day
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| Evil will be broken by Allah in due time
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| We will soon find out what is matter and what is mind
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| Now hands in the air and together we sing
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| As we see the pretty colors of the beeds on the string |