| Song | Juggle Tings Proper |
| Artist | Roots Manuva |
| Album | Brand New Second Hand |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Smith | |
| Album: Brand New Second Hand | |
| Title: Juggle Tings Proper | |
| (Great Scott! I say, old bean) | |
| This happens to be the article of fusion | |
| Huh! The roots-fi discotheque | |
| As we move | |
| It's that jet-black flow from the southwest of illo n d-o-n | |
| The second nature of the vent dem rebel routine | |
| I scheme and plot, ain't no use in stepping if we don't step hot | |
| Let the movements be made, there's goals to be getting | |
| No second for no love or no fettin | |
| Why there's all these ugly mans on my TV screen? | |
| I wrap my head with foil so I don't catch so I don't catch them beams | |
| The sound of half a downer don't pray fi step solo | |
| We far flung frontier, captain kirk, the sun trekker | |
| Full time I climb, my chip deeper taught as I sow seeds of thought | |
| The fruits of the roots, a vision of splendid splendidness | |
| Now be proud to be spittin in the face of the beast | |
| With each and every move I make, every shite I break | |
| You might watch me but I watch you too | |
| Ain't a thing you can do to stop me! | |
| [Chorus 2x] | |
| Whom wants this or that | |
| Watch these enzymes react | |
| How we juggle tings proper | |
| Man, don't | |
| When I swing I'm far fetched like hicks from hicksville | |
| High steps got me trippin from Peckham to Bucks Hill | |
| Still I stand firm through the strife conflict | |
| Motion slick, hip to every ring poli-trick | |
| So I spread love like Lennon and Yoko Ono | |
| Keep vibes slow-mo for a ho-tential | |
| Don't go callin me coon, you'll catch a boot to your jaw | |
| We pro-black, freak that, can't sweep no floor | |
| I heard those my people, them burst their backs | |
| Work hard for eons and paid tax and have not seen jack | |
| In return, how does shit burn | |
| It could well make a guy lose sense and rationale | |
| Onto kamikazes on shifting streets | |
| It's eyeball for eyeball and teeth for teeth | |
| While we spin on this ball of confusion | |
| I sight no solution, cesspits just get more frowsy | |
| Chemical rain got me drunken and drowsy | |
| Rowdy, I got no choice but to be | |
| The living example of a root-fi youth type soldier | |
| Bowling through like there ain't no tomorrow | |
| Brave them terrains of pain and deep sorrow | |
| But still keep sliding on, I try to make sense of the madness | |
| But it seems like I'm wasting my time, it's best I just | |
| Go get me mine, find some inner peace | |
| Climb to higher heights, embrace the light | |
| [Chorus 2x] | |
| This living dead noose, the bane of life in the west | |
| But who's down for civil unrest? | |
| In times like these comrades is hard to find | |
| The beast keeps the masses toeing the line | |
| With them sneaky tactics they'll keep them boys running | |
| So they can have a market for their guns and ammunition | |
| Keep the third world in a stagnant position | |
| Begging for monetary aid from IMF | |
| Who don't seem too keen to write of the third world debt | |
| Cause they profit from holding it down | |
| Soon there'll be no dollars, no yens, no pounds | |
| Just madness, microchips and hi-tech war | |
| And all because the beast wants to gain control | |
| Of each and every mind, body, spirit and soul | |
| [Chorus 2x] | |
| We keep it jugglin, keep it jugglin |
| zuo ci : Smith | |
| Album: Brand New Second Hand | |
| Title: Juggle Tings Proper | |
| Great Scott! I say, old bean | |
| This happens to be the article of fusion | |
| Huh! The rootsfi discotheque | |
| As we move | |
| It' s that jetblack flow from the southwest of illo n don | |
| The second nature of the vent dem rebel routine | |
| I scheme and plot, ain' t no use in stepping if we don' t step hot | |
| Let the movements be made, there' s goals to be getting | |
| No second for no love or no fettin | |
| Why there' s all these ugly mans on my TV screen? | |
| I wrap my head with foil so I don' t catch so I don' t catch them beams | |
| The sound of half a downer don' t pray fi step solo | |
| We far flung frontier, captain kirk, the sun trekker | |
| Full time I climb, my chip deeper taught as I sow seeds of thought | |
| The fruits of the roots, a vision of splendid splendidness | |
| Now be proud to be spittin in the face of the beast | |
| With each and every move I make, every shite I break | |
| You might watch me but I watch you too | |
| Ain' t a thing you can do to stop me! | |
| Chorus 2x | |
| Whom wants this or that | |
| Watch these enzymes react | |
| How we juggle tings proper | |
| Man, don' t | |
| When I swing I' m far fetched like hicks from hicksville | |
| High steps got me trippin from Peckham to Bucks Hill | |
| Still I stand firm through the strife conflict | |
| Motion slick, hip to every ring politrick | |
| So I spread love like Lennon and Yoko Ono | |
| Keep vibes slowmo for a hotential | |
| Don' t go callin me coon, you' ll catch a boot to your jaw | |
| We problack, freak that, can' t sweep no floor | |
| I heard those my people, them burst their backs | |
| Work hard for eons and paid tax and have not seen jack | |
| In return, how does shit burn | |
| It could well make a guy lose sense and rationale | |
| Onto kamikazes on shifting streets | |
| It' s eyeball for eyeball and teeth for teeth | |
| While we spin on this ball of confusion | |
| I sight no solution, cesspits just get more frowsy | |
| Chemical rain got me drunken and drowsy | |
| Rowdy, I got no choice but to be | |
| The living example of a rootfi youth type soldier | |
| Bowling through like there ain' t no tomorrow | |
| Brave them terrains of pain and deep sorrow | |
| But still keep sliding on, I try to make sense of the madness | |
| But it seems like I' m wasting my time, it' s best I just | |
| Go get me mine, find some inner peace | |
| Climb to higher heights, embrace the light | |
| Chorus 2x | |
| This living dead noose, the bane of life in the west | |
| But who' s down for civil unrest? | |
| In times like these comrades is hard to find | |
| The beast keeps the masses toeing the line | |
| With them sneaky tactics they' ll keep them boys running | |
| So they can have a market for their guns and ammunition | |
| Keep the third world in a stagnant position | |
| Begging for monetary aid from IMF | |
| Who don' t seem too keen to write of the third world debt | |
| Cause they profit from holding it down | |
| Soon there' ll be no dollars, no yens, no pounds | |
| Just madness, microchips and hitech war | |
| And all because the beast wants to gain control | |
| Of each and every mind, body, spirit and soul | |
| Chorus 2x | |
| We keep it jugglin, keep it jugglin |
| zuò cí : Smith | |
| Album: Brand New Second Hand | |
| Title: Juggle Tings Proper | |
| Great Scott! I say, old bean | |
| This happens to be the article of fusion | |
| Huh! The rootsfi discotheque | |
| As we move | |
| It' s that jetblack flow from the southwest of illo n don | |
| The second nature of the vent dem rebel routine | |
| I scheme and plot, ain' t no use in stepping if we don' t step hot | |
| Let the movements be made, there' s goals to be getting | |
| No second for no love or no fettin | |
| Why there' s all these ugly mans on my TV screen? | |
| I wrap my head with foil so I don' t catch so I don' t catch them beams | |
| The sound of half a downer don' t pray fi step solo | |
| We far flung frontier, captain kirk, the sun trekker | |
| Full time I climb, my chip deeper taught as I sow seeds of thought | |
| The fruits of the roots, a vision of splendid splendidness | |
| Now be proud to be spittin in the face of the beast | |
| With each and every move I make, every shite I break | |
| You might watch me but I watch you too | |
| Ain' t a thing you can do to stop me! | |
| Chorus 2x | |
| Whom wants this or that | |
| Watch these enzymes react | |
| How we juggle tings proper | |
| Man, don' t | |
| When I swing I' m far fetched like hicks from hicksville | |
| High steps got me trippin from Peckham to Bucks Hill | |
| Still I stand firm through the strife conflict | |
| Motion slick, hip to every ring politrick | |
| So I spread love like Lennon and Yoko Ono | |
| Keep vibes slowmo for a hotential | |
| Don' t go callin me coon, you' ll catch a boot to your jaw | |
| We problack, freak that, can' t sweep no floor | |
| I heard those my people, them burst their backs | |
| Work hard for eons and paid tax and have not seen jack | |
| In return, how does shit burn | |
| It could well make a guy lose sense and rationale | |
| Onto kamikazes on shifting streets | |
| It' s eyeball for eyeball and teeth for teeth | |
| While we spin on this ball of confusion | |
| I sight no solution, cesspits just get more frowsy | |
| Chemical rain got me drunken and drowsy | |
| Rowdy, I got no choice but to be | |
| The living example of a rootfi youth type soldier | |
| Bowling through like there ain' t no tomorrow | |
| Brave them terrains of pain and deep sorrow | |
| But still keep sliding on, I try to make sense of the madness | |
| But it seems like I' m wasting my time, it' s best I just | |
| Go get me mine, find some inner peace | |
| Climb to higher heights, embrace the light | |
| Chorus 2x | |
| This living dead noose, the bane of life in the west | |
| But who' s down for civil unrest? | |
| In times like these comrades is hard to find | |
| The beast keeps the masses toeing the line | |
| With them sneaky tactics they' ll keep them boys running | |
| So they can have a market for their guns and ammunition | |
| Keep the third world in a stagnant position | |
| Begging for monetary aid from IMF | |
| Who don' t seem too keen to write of the third world debt | |
| Cause they profit from holding it down | |
| Soon there' ll be no dollars, no yens, no pounds | |
| Just madness, microchips and hitech war | |
| And all because the beast wants to gain control | |
| Of each and every mind, body, spirit and soul | |
| Chorus 2x | |
| We keep it jugglin, keep it jugglin |