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Buffalo Soldier
Matisyahu; Shyne
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Lyrics
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Translation
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Buffalo soldier, no I'm not a Rasta
I used to be a mobster, burning down the block
Buffalo soldier, no I'm not a Rasta
I used to be a mobster, burning down the block
Don't judge a book by the cover
Every single being in this world is your brother
When I look upon a page and 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
Reach up high to the sky, look out through the night
You'll feel alright
Stars burn bright, highlight the moonlight
You'll be alright
Buffalo soldier, no I'm not a Rasta
Used to be a mobster, burning up the block
Buffalo soldier, no I'm not a Rasta
Used to be a mobster, burning up the block
Buffalo soldier, no I'm not a Rasta
Used to be a mobster, burning up the block
Peace is the medicine, I'm out like a beggar
In this life I'm buried, in this life I'm treasuring
Buffalo soldier, no I'm not a Rasta
Buffalo soldier, no I'm not a Rasta
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
Now I'm running to face my dreams
Find 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
To me
Buffalo soldier, no I'm not a Rasta
Used to be a mobster, burning up the block
Buffalo soldier, no I'm not a Rasta
Used to be a mobster, burning up the block
Buffalo soldier, no I'm not a Rasta
Used to be a mobster, burning up the block
Peace is the medicine, I'm out like a beggar
In this life I'm buried, in this life 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, bruh
Shout to sheriff, the DA and the deputy
Sorry I was sharped and I don't need you to lecture me
Maybe I'll stop talking 'bout guns
When you talk about the funds that they cut for the youth
Just cut to the truth, ain't enough for the youth
So tell me how you judge me 'til you stuck in these shoes
Man, where the congressmen? Where all the senators?
We thinking 'bout that green, not the color of the president
Race is just irrelevant, survival is the sentiment
Narcotics is the only way you know that I'ma measure it
They say that we are in a post-Obama era
Well exactly what that mean? You need to make it clearer
Does it mean that the rich gon' finally start to share a
Little portion of wealth and make things fairer?
Man, ask God why do poor people suffer
But I'm such a hypocrite in Rolls Royce mufflers
In the gullets, nobody never loved us
I am just the result of pain and hunger
Buffalo soldier, no I'm not a Rasta
Used to be a mobster, burning up the block
Buffalo soldier, no I'm not a Rasta
Used to be a mobster, burning up the block
Buffalo soldier, no I'm not a Rasta
Used to be a mobster, burning up the block
Peace is the medicine, I'm out like a beggar
In this life I'm buried, in this life I'm treasuring
One more time
One more time, one more time, one more time
One more time
One more time
Hold on, hold on, hold on
Alright