Перевод песни Jungle Brothers – Doin' Our Own Dang

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Me, plug three, the one they call baby huey
The one that gets all the money (all the money)
Yeah, thats 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
Bassline so dope that you just might choke
Dont bite off something that you cant chew
And dont trail behind when Im coming through
Fronting the feel that you really cant feel
Cause youre trying to feel whats on my reel to reel
A tree is growing
Cant you see what I see? a white blue fruit to boot
We count to ten before we pass the crews, now thats 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
Its the life of riley, Im 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 jbs
Were doing our own thang (repeat 4x)
Isnt it cool when you cut your hair
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
Funk we transmit is unstable
One condition if I am able to say
(yes you may) well hey, lets 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 are dark
Monie love the mouthpiece, its 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 its kind of funky, but its cool
For we are beyond the stereotypes
Coordination crazy, but still it sounds hype
Rocking on and off beat, and I do believe Im right (youre right)
Am I wrong? (yeah, son)
Dont be mad, be glad I missed the plane, Im staying
With the brothers jungle, soul, and the tribe Im saying
Funky funky rhymes that always stay in swing
I believe we doing our own thing
Were doing our own thang (repeat 4x)
Well my family sets all the trends
From soul to soul, large to loose ends
? and I all my groups like kill?
(cause thats where the moneys at)
Yeah, the industrys filled with copycats
R&b mixed with sloppy raps
Tribes like us always open doors
But what for, so you can get yours?
You aint in to it, all you want is profit
So I ask you please to stop it Leave me alone, get off my bone
Cause Im 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 thats laid back
Read to kic back, those get no slack
I may rock a rhyme or I may start to sing
But still, Im 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 lets walk about
And form a cirlce and talk about
Dont follow the path that were stepping
Truth to the soul is what Im cramming
Reasons for this is that the familys strong
And like bob marley said «were jammin»
Seeing is beliving, so see and believe
And let the groove of the new proceed
A whole bunch of love, peace signs, and fun
So lets do whats got to be done, you know?