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Lyrics for Patti Dooke by De La Soul:
| | | Artist: | De La Soul |
| | Album: | Buhloone Mindstate | | Track: | Patti Dooke | | | | Date Added: | 18/10/2007 | | Views: | 115 | | | | Lyrics: | Why do we have to cross over?)
(Why are niggas always crossing over huh?)
(I mean
what's the matter?)
(They can accept our music as long as they can't see our faces?)
(One Two One Two; You got it)
Wootah!
GURU:
Runnin' through the trenches
(What?)
Runnin' through the trenches (What?)
Runnin' through the trenches it's the
Patti Dooke
(It's the Patti what?)
Runnin' through the trenches (Oh!!)
Runnin' through the trenches it's the Patti's Dooke
Runnin' through the trenches (What?)
Runnin' through the trenches (What?)
Runnin' through the trenches it's the Patti
Dooke
(It's the Patti what?)
Runnin' through the trenches (Oh!!)
Runnin'
through the trenches it's the Patti's Dooke
DOVE:
Just the other day I got a starter
kit
(An M is a terrible thing to waste)
Caught the face from the backs of the border
of the mindstate
I play control to a fraud
(Nah it ain't happenin')
Nada to
make it even
Robbin' and theivin' is one who infiltrates with a Colgate frown
Y'all
remember my nasal for I sniff frequencies
(Well, it started in the year of '78)
But
it's '93 or should I say '94 for my style is much more
(I said, "Come in")
Come in
(Come on)
Come out into my reservoir
As I macks a men your bastard style has
just been stuck
By a sticker with a 'frigerator lickin'
What if... how's about why
would
Never thought that the napalm would bust the jeans
POS:
Mash it up
The one with the beard
Mega moustache the beat (hide it)
Deep under sheets,
cover this hint
Hostin' all threats but watch out Mr. Jarbage
Jimmy and the jet,
standin' on the pier
I'm known as the farmer
Cultivatin' mate without mendin'
Bendin', comprimising any of my styles to gain a smile
Listen while you hear it
There's no pink in my slip
I reckon that the rhythm and the blues in the rap got me
red
While the boys from Tommy plant bridge crossin' to a larger community
Yet
they're soon to see I have a brother named Luck
A nigga named Dres
A groupie named
Cassandra caught bobbin' on the head
Of a Baby named Chris, I missed a kid who caught wreck
when sayin'
(Afrika and I when Sammy B's on the set)
GURU:
Runnin' through
the trenches (What?)
Runnin' through the trenches (What?)
Runnin' through the
trenches it's the Patti Dooke
(It's the Patti what?)
Runnin' through the trenches
(Oh!!)
Runnin' through the trenches it's the Patti's Dooke
(Prevention against sucka
M.C.'s)
(Prevention against sucka M.C.'s)
(Prevention against sucka M.C.'s)
(And now, prevention against sucka M.C.'s)
(We decided to change the cover a little bit)
(Because we see the big picture)
(Negroes and white folks buyin' this album)
(Negroes and white folks buyin' this album)
(Everybody's gonna know who this group is)
(We just felt that the picture wasn't as important as it was that we
succeeed in
crossing over)
(Cross over ain't nuthin' but a double cross)
(Once we lose our
audience we never gon' get them back)
(He may even try to change our sound)
POS:
Let no man put asunder
Severin' the groups I never blunder
Cashin' all the
checks on the mic
I might cherry to the bush, brand Plug Wonder
Funk to the fame
against hoods
Bridges saggin' to woods down under
They can't be raised with the
feminine praise
In conjunction with no chocolate in the mix
White boy Roy cannot
feel it
But the first to try and steal it
Dilute it, pollute it, kill it
I
see him infiltratin' to the masses
And when the leechin' I mo shoot 'em all in they asses
GURU:
Runnin' through the trenches (What?)
Runnin' through the trenches
(Yeah!)
Runnin' through the trenches it's the Patti Dooke
(It's the Patti what?)
Runnin' through the trenches (Aaah!!)
Runnin' through the trenches it's the Patti's
Dooke
(It might blow up but it won't go pop)
(It might blow up but it won't go pop)
(It might blow up but it won't go pop)
(It might blow up but it won't go pop)
(It might blow up but it won't go pop)
(It might blow up but it won't go pop)
(It
might blow up but it won't go pop)
(It might blow up but it won't go pop)
POS:
I shed light and not skin
I ain't from Europe
Afro connects at the root of
the retina of the third
Mums the word when ya blind baby
Blind to the fact
Don't rest in Compton so I don't own a gat
But respect is clear crystal
Cause Millie
got a pistol
And she's down with me
Wild of most wild
Born child to the old
school legitimate (soul)
Talker of the many paragraphs ago
Walker of the plenty
broken calves ago
Phantom of the phrase black in many ways
Cause I see her runnin'
through the trenches
Comin' in to rent my style
GURU:
I'm not the one to
fuck with
POS:
I'm lockin' you out
GURU:
I'm just not to fuck wit so
check it
Y'all know who I am
Listen up son
Peace to my man Premier
And y'all better guard your trenches 'cause we runnin' through 'em
(Do it....fluid....Mess
up my mind....)
(Do it....fluid....Mess up my mind....)
(Do it....fluid....Mess up
my mind....)
(Do it....fluid....Mess up my mind....)
(Do it....fluid....Mess up my
mind....)
(Do it....fluid....Mess up my mind....)
(Do it....fluid....Mess up my
mind....)
(Do it....fluid....Mess up my mind....)
(Tell me somethin' huh?)
(How come they never cross over to us, huh?)
(I never seen five niggas on Elvis Presley
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