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De La Soul
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Potholes In My Lawn [12' Version]
Lyricist:Thomas Allen, Harold Brown, Morris Dickerson, Gerald Goldstein, Paul Huston, David Jolicoeur, Leroy Jordan, Lee Levitin, Vincent Mason, Kelvin Mercer, Charles Miller, Howard Scott
Potholes in my lawn Potholes in my lawn
Everybody's sayin', what to do when suckin' lunatics Start diggin' and chewin' They don't know that the Soul don't go for that Potholes in my lawn
And I go for my rhyme sheet Which I concentrated so hard on, see I don't ask for maximum security But my dwellin' is swellin'
It nipped my bud when I happened to fall into a spot Where no ink or an ink-blot was on a scroll I just wrote me a new 'mot' but now it's gone There's no suckers knew that I hate To recognize that every time I'm writin', it's gone
Yodel-a-hee, yodel-oh-hee, yodel-a Yodel-a-hee, yodel-oh-hee, yodel-ee-hee-hee-hee Potholes in my lawn
I've found that it's not wise to leave my garden untended 'Cause eyes have now pardoned all laws of privacy Even paws are after my writer see I've found that everyone's sayin', what to do when suckers are preyin' Upon my well-guarded spreadsheets
Oh why, hell does it send up fleets Of evil doers through the big hole To get to evil doers who dig hole Which leaves my lawn of lawn-chew I think I'd better plant traces to give clues Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com
Or better yet, call 911 And when they get here, I inform them I'm the plug one Open a chair and let them realize the reason For concern of the Soul 'Cause we've come down with a case of potholes
Yodel-a-hee, yodel-oh-hee, yodel-a Yodel-a-hee, yodel-oh-hee, yodel-ee-hee-hee-hee
Who stole, who stole, who stole the cookie From the cookie jar?
Now you got the message What to do when you die The death that I predict in 'Plug tunin' It's a shame that you deny to claim That you stole my words of fame
That I wrote in my rhyme sheet Which I concentrated so hard on, see I don't ask for a barbed wire fence, B But my dwellin' is swellin'
It nipped my bud when I happened to fall into a spot Where no ink or an ink-blot was on a scroll I just wrote me a new 'mot' but now it's gone there's no Suckers knew that I hate To recognize that every time I'm writin', it's gone
Potholes in my lawn
Yodel-a-hee, yodel-oh-hee, yodel-a Yodel-a-hee, yodel-oh-hee, yodel-ee-hee-hee-hee
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