Lyrics:

Backed by the Baby Bam Beat, the rare groove
Jungle Bros. no competition and nothin' to prove
Want me to be on your family tree
But you're all about yourself which won't
allow me to be
You see I'm the kind of brother that gets up
on the stage
To get down for the people that came and paid
I throw on my uniform, but not to get pretty
Show no shame, feel no pity
You all showed up and I'm glad you came
Still the same person everything's the same
Once again I show towards you all due respect
But my main concern for now is keepin' things
in check
Hands in the air and everybody will sing
As they hang on the my rhythm like the
Beeds On My String

Recess

My soul sings a FUNK-E song, as the beat
goes on and on
Another day gone and still learnin' my right
from wrong
The party's gettin' packed as I turn up the
BASS more
The meter's goin' crazy up and down like a
see saw
Takin' off my crown, to give my lo, lo, lo, locks
a breathe
I wanna stop myself but I still got some
rhyme left
Uncle Sam breaks it down as everybody
shakes the butt
Brothers gettin' happy lettin' out the longin' nutt
Hands in the air and everybody will sing
As they cling on the rhythm like the BEEDS
on my STRING

Recess

You know what...
Sisters on the side sayin' get on get on
Brothers everywhere sayin' JUMP ON IT!
Can't get enough of what I'm doin' here
Well the picture is painted the message is clear
Here, the Beeds are the People the String
is the Vibe
The Vibe is what mentally connects the tribe
Once you get on it you can't get off it
You fall off beat well baby doll you lost it
Maybe next week of even the next beat
Makes ya feel at home beats up against ya dome
Find ya self inside an AfriKan syndrome
Found ya culture brother I told ya
Black is Beautiful Money is Powerful
You was afraid that's why you stayed away
The true blue brothers they followed me anyway
I gave 'em alternative found a new way ta {sic} live
Somethin' that's positive which I thought was
good to give
A whole lot of tribes of us feelin' the vibes
from us
Everybody's down nobody's ridin' us
Hands in the air and everybody will sing
As they hang on to my rhythm like the Beeds
on my String

Now everybody pump your first as we proceed
to leave this place
Step into a zone where there's no mind for
color face
Children are the future so let them lead the way
Carry our nation into a brighter and better day
Evil will be broken by Allah in due time
We will soon find out what is matter and
what is mind
Now hands in the air and together we sing
As we the pretty colors of the BEEDS on
the STRING...