Buffalo Soldier

Album: Spark Seeker (2012)
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  • Buffalo soldier, I know I'm not a rasta
    I used to be a mobster burning down the block
    Buffalo soldier, I know I'm not a rasta
    I used to be a mobster burning down the block

    Don't judge a book by the cover
    Everything will be in this world is your brother
    When I lost the fun ? uncover
    Ancient words that teach me to love ya!
    So we burn to return to the mother
    And we yearn to unlearn all they told ya about yourself
    Who you are, what you should be,
    I'm gonna be free leave it up to me!

    Shouts through the sky, look out to the night
    Feel alright!
    Stars burn bright, I like the moonlight
    You'll be alright!

    Buffalo soldier, I know I'm not a rasta
    I used to be a mobster burning up the block
    Buffalo soldier, I know I'm not a rasta
    I used to be a mobster burning up the block
    Buffalo soldier, I know I'm not a rasta
    I used to be a mobster burning up the block
    This is the medicine, I'm out like the Bedouin
    This knife I'm burying and this life I'm treasuring

    This is the medicine, I'm out like the Bedouin
    Buffalo soldier, I know I'm not a monster
    Buffalo soldier, I know I'm not a monster
    Buffalo soldier, I know I'm not a monster

    I went running away to the cave
    Went in a slave and came out all flames
    I went running away for the hills
    Back to my roots and I'm running still
    But now I'm running to face my dreams
    Found my place and what it means
    Find yourself and no one else
    You have to leave it up to me, leave it up to me!

    Buffalo soldier, I know I'm not a rasta
    I used to be a mobster burning up the block
    Buffalo soldier, I know I'm not a rasta
    I used to be a mobster burning up the block
    Buffalo soldier, I know I'm not a rasta
    I used to be a mobster burning up the block
    This is the medicine, I'm not like the Bedouin
    With this knife I'm burying and this life I'm treasuring
    Buffalo soldier, I know I'm not a rasta

    Buffalo soldier, you know I'm not a rasta
    I used to be a mobster burning down the block
    I shot the sheriff, the DA, and the deputy
    Sorry Al Sharpton I don't need you to lecture me
    Maybe I'll stop talking about guns
    When you talk about the funds that they cut for the youth
    Let's cut to the truth, ain't enough for the youth
    So tell me how you judge me til you're stuck in the shoes, man!
    Where the Congressmen, where all the Senators?
    They're thinking about their green, not the color of the President?
    This is just a relevance, survival is the sentiment
    Narcotics is the only way you know that I'm a measure it!
    They say that we are in a post Obama era
    Well exactly what that mean? you needn't make it clearer
    Does it mean that the rich are gonna finally start to share up
    Re-proportion the wealth and make things fairer
    Asking God "why do poor people suffer" but now I'm such a hypocrite,
    The Rolls Royce mufflers.
    In the gutters nobody never loved us
    I am just the result of pain and hunger!

    Buffalo soldier, I know I'm not a rasta
    I used to be a mobster burning up the block
    Buffalo soldier, I know I'm not a rasta
    I used to be a mobster burning up the block
    Buffalo soldier, I know I'm not a rasta
    I used to be a mobster burning up the block Writer/s: Allan Peter Grigg, Matthew Miller, Shyne Shyne
    Publisher: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., SINGLES PUBLISHING, LLC
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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