Shyne

Shyne - Buffalo Soldier lyrics

rate me

Buffalo soldier, no, I’m not a rasta,

I used to be a mobster burning out the block.

Buffalo soldier, no, I’m not a rasta,

I used to be a mobster burning out the block.

Buffalo soldier, no, I’m not a rasta, got them lights, but now I’m on it like I’m back, bro

Nestemates, private jets and Harleys, I’m the best that all is, life’s just a line.

Standing next to God, I projest an army for tears as it is, got the heckle on me.

Stand on the soldiers, above the ceiling of frat hair,

They wanna stick me with the vick up where the fast can.

Straight face, competition’s bad face, this new edition rap is soft like raw president.

I got the auto mode different, what you call wait, I know cats who sniff that.

Easy with the chit-chat, before I get the click-clack,

Guns out poking like I’m hoving at a kit-kat.

Yeah, I got the uzzy atomate that, face fifty years with a ladder wanna be that.

Sons wanna be that, I just wanna the kid out,

Shyne got your face, stay away from all to be that.

You better act like you know, how to sell that, make magic for the stove

About the hoes trying to find a pot of gold,

I’m a wizard making business only heard about it, though.

Imma go straight to hell for the lies I destroyed,

But I’ll never burn in hell, let me live it unemployed.

Elleanor’s gotta vote, probably that you’ll just ignore,

So don’t judge upon the prison and they end up selling bars.

Prove the truth that I’m giving you,

Now the song be rap, right where I’m seeing you.

Pay attention, learn a thing or two, brook none, broke some, watch what the king will do.

Buffalo soldier, no, I’m not a rasta,

I used to be a mobster burning out the block.

Buffalo soldier, no, I’m not a rasta,

I used to be a mobster burning out the block.

Buffalo soldier, no, I’m not a rasta,

I used to be a mobster burning out the block.

Hey, sister, never seen a mouth like the factor

When I snipe I’m every and the snipe I’m treasuring.

Buffalo soldier, no, I’m not a rasta,

Buffalo soldier, no, I’m not a rasta.

Buffalo soldier, no, 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 ‘tlil 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,

Exactly what that mean? You needn’t make it clearer.

Does it mean that the rich are gonna finally start to share up

Reproportion 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

My action result from pain and hunger.

Buffalo soldier, no, I’m not a rasta,

I used to be a mobster burning out the block.

Buffalo soldier, no, I’m not a rasta,

I used to be a mobster burning out the block.

Buffalo soldier, no, I’m not a rasta,

I used to be a mobster burning out the block.

Hey, sister, never seen a mouth like the factor

When I snipe I’m every and the snipe I’m treasuring.<br />

<br />

Thanks to e

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