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Buhloone Mindstate


Artist: De La Soul
Genres: Hip-Hop
Total songs: 7
Year: 1993

Patti Dooke Lyrics - Buhloone Mindstate - De La Soul

(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 

 

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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 

 

Photos 

 

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 album cover!) 

Writer: , , ,

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