Lyrics:
Drastic son, master guns that'll run up in plastic ones
And then go, crash in the slums
One tight army, few good men that'll rep
Invade you strongly,
of god churn out the children
Tore off the tongues of every native son
Ritual
Slaughter the native soul
Deny the light
Once more
Stripped of flesh
and casting spells
Stung by the spelling bee
And they says congratulations
You graduated
From slavery
To paid slavery
You actually made it!
Here! Take
You brave young sons of Erin's Isle
I hope you will attend awhile
'Tis the wrongs of dear old Ireland I am going to relate
'Twas black and cursed
He became a famous son
And his work was never done
To bring light to the corners of the world
His preaching would impress
And many natives professed
There was a boy, our pride and joy
A patriot to pay
And so by chance, he went to France
And all to give his life away
He was but one of many sons
We are not alone
I couldn't care about where you’re from
What flag you wave or your native son
There's no such thing as Americans
Everyone here's
soup you do voodoo I can't run
Loose on the earth like the native son who gone save the world when the rangers done
I call to the fo's on the block
boy
On the outskirts, of what works
Live those who go for broke, and merk to get merked
Live by the sword and die by the semi
Not part of my ways, but
Somewhere, Somewhere far away where I roam
there live my buffalo twin in our twin buffalo home sweet home
and takes good care of my native son
and he
So how could all these
Disease be cured by just giving everyone the same compound
We go away from philosophy
And just look at reality and God
listen when… we clearly hear her come a whispering…in native tongue without Listermint…us native sons are mischievous…fishing seas of screwed visages…
the daffodil
Borne on the wind across mountain and ocean
Until self-seeding randomly, thriving untended
Native by accident, falling where happenstance falls
We
the numberless shades of green?
Who stopped to linger in the path?
Who saw the world in a blade of grass?
Come, sing your song son, native born and bred
In
looks like leather by now
His woman's got fat and lost all he
But, Lord, she's lived up to her vow
She looks at her son that's going on twenty
He's ready
Yo, what up, dunn?
Yo, son, what up?
Yo, I just got my hands on this new biscuit, you know what I'm sayin'?
Word?
I got to go see somethin' real
and say
I'm a native son of San Antone
There's a sweet somebody by the Alamo
Someday she's gonna be my very own
And we'll buy (Then we'll get)
By white people, and for white people. Native americans,
Blacks, and all other non-white people, were to be the
Burden bearers, for the real
on poor natives
I've come to believe with some degree of certainty
This place locks hearts away as well as the chains you see
But I am stilled by scripture
a native son of San Antone
There's a sweet somebody by the Alamo
Someday she's gonna be my very own
And we'll buy a highchair in a year or so
For our little
and the constitution, reflect the thinking
Of the founding fathers, that this was, to be a nation
By white people, and for white people. Native americans,
Blacks,
a nigga every time red handed
Trying to get more near the top shelf
Oh shit oh shit
Moved by the ocean coast shit
Detroit native native
But Im out in LA lit
that son
What about the natives and the slaves among the settlers
That fought their wars for them and they never get mentioned
That most of the founders
the native son
Wave speaking in my native tongue
Talk back with her body language
English probably is her second language
Look like a girl from around the way
Discuss these native son by geographer Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In