Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Buffalo State Of mind, artist - Che Noir. Album song The Thrill Of The Hunt, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 21.02.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: T.C.F
Song language: English
Buffalo State Of mind |
It’s war out here, mad niggas is dyin' |
You don’t want that shit to be you, right? |
«Nah» |
I know you gon' hold it down, though, you know mean? |
These niggas out here ain’t really worth it |
«You a ill nigga, though, I like your style» |
Look |
Nights at the telly I’m plottin' up on my next check |
Flowin' the sickest, I just took that shit off a bed rest |
Vibin' out while the old Jigga bumpin' outta my headset |
I know these niggas wondering who gon' become the vet' next |
Name a, sicker nigga from the ghetto, I rise |
Pick out the blind to see them niggas bustin' metals outside |
Stretchin' on pies, bet I’mma rise |
It was hard to see the light but we had our eyes set on the prize |
Granny prayin' 'cause we livin' in sin |
A real boss put his niggas in the position to win |
But it was tough, the conditions we in |
Not from the riches and glitz |
Either movin' them bricks tryna put food in the fridge |
Or you strippin', bet she takin' any option for the money, nigga |
Hit the pole she pick it up and drop it like a clumsy nigga |
Or you on the field tryna make it to the league |
Or you workin' 9-to-5 tryna make a lil' green |
Paint a picture when your pops gettin' set up in traffic |
Your mama only piece of mind is in the medicine cabinet |
The way the system set up is tragic |
So it’s good to see my brother in a cap and gown instead of a casket |
Was a set up that happened, the get I bread up is habit |
'cause the crackers try to tell us that we never would have it |
It was hard, we were fed up with lackin', never settle for average |
I’m thinkin' when I lay my head on the mattress |
Bein' broke gave me a different vibe, name a chick as sick as I |
These rappers spittin' lies, these bitches know they couldn’t go head-to-head; |
I’m a different height |
Yeah I need a Arizona and a trip to Chi' |
It’s Buffalo, New York |
Front porch, gettin' high as the murder rate |
Gun shuts couple houses down where they serve the 'yay |
Granny in church they sayin' we gotta learn how to pray |
There’s a young soul leavin' this Earth today |
These young girls givin' it up, to these niggas with bad intentions |
They schemin' for pussy, they ain’t lookin' for daddy’s blessin' |
He GPS to her house but these boys lackin' direction |
They’re gettin' raised in the system and get harassed and arrested |
This the, Empire state, the finer state ain’t got no time to waste |
Supplyin' weight ain’t the only way to acquire cake |
But he see these niggas with chains so he gon' find a way |
What you expect when you throwin' food at a lion’s gate? |
He never had a chance; |
both his parents up in the pen' |
He workin' a 9-to-5 but embarrassed to tell his friends |
He converted to the streets but got caught carryin' a Uzi |
Went to jail as a Christian came out wearin' a kufi |
I got a, pocket full of dreams, how can I achieve? |
Fuck the fame, I’m just tryna bring profit for the team |
Never actin' off emotions; |
usin' logic when I speak |
It’s real you can hear my stomach growlin' when I speak |
Mobbin' with the team, climbin' for the dream |
We not stoppin; |
pops was a rollin' stone, couldn’t hold his own |
Time is underrated, man, I can remember days |
House party at the crib we just wanna be kids and play |
Kids chasin' dice game in the street |
Niggas sell you a dream but the price change now is cheap |
Nights came waitin', my life changed in a blink |
Crime rate on a steep, mind frame on defeat |
Nowadays these bitches ain’t got no privacy with it |
Get the cake, I play with numbers like a lottery ticket |
As a kid my pops told me a valuable old lesson |
He told me the dream free but the hustle is sold separate, yeah |