Nas
The Season
United States in fearLondon knows I'm a phantom, South Korea knows I'm herePosted, planted without exceptionRise to your feet for this gravityNas and Dilla beat, the fly soliloquySome real nigga talkin'This don't happen too often, take precautionLiars and frauds got you exhaustedYou've been accostedWho told you've I lost it?I just put it down for a second, damnCan the king lounge for a second, kick his hooves up?Grow stubble on the face for once without a smooth cut?Grow a little gut, can't even enjoy the fruit of my laborBefore they call me Luke and hand me my lightsaberThe ruler's back, you can tell by the trumpetsPrince of Wales sent me tea, biscuits, crumpetsJewelry cost more than the car, car cost two hundredGet out your chair, the season of Nasir(Da-da-da-da-daDa-da-da-da-da)The season(Da-da-da-da-daDa-da-da-da-da)This is the seasonLetras de canciones(Da-da-da-da-daDa-da-da-da-da)The season(Da-da-da-da-daDa-da-da-da-da)Jay Elec doesn't write itHOV couldn't write it, he vacationin'Jungle the only brother I take shit fromHassan give me lines, we talk all the timeSo I guess if he inspired my song it ain't mineLet me make this clear, they fear the giftedSome say Shakespeare never existedWow, now, look at the amount of resistanceAttempts to chisel my face, from the mountain you guessed itBitch you guessed itThere, did I answer your questions?So, now that's out the way let's get back to my messageNow I'm forty and a little changeRide around, sport a new Benz, a little RangeHavin' fun, my little man gettin' bigHe and my daughter down, when we talk it's realNothin' is watered down, young boy swagI'm here today as well as the 90'sBut the past life, my ass is behind meIgnite the PyrexTry to bite this, get Nasty Nas-itisArthritis when you try to write thisAsking why is the Feds at my niggas?Why the Feds at my niggas?I know by now I should be talkin' bread, crack, and figuresBut not stressin', not stressin'I'm survivin', I'm survivin'It's funny when I catch cops textin' and drivin'Who questions and penalizes them?One day we'll have their ass in court and we'll be tryin' themHey yo, it's love for Detroit, Mo-Town, Motor CityDilla lives on, it's like he wrote it with meThe soulful sample complements my rhyme so wellSlacks by Zegna, or YSLMatchin' the Saint Laurents, I'm fly as hellHands in the air, the season of Nasir(Da-da-da-da-daDa-da-da-da-da)The season(Da-da-da-da-daDa-da-da-da-da)This is the season(Da-da-da-da-daDa-da-da-da-da)The season(Da-da-da-da-daDa-da-da-da-da)Yeah, it's that time, yeah,Dilla rest in peace, what up Detroit?Fly ladies, dope dealers and killersWorldwide, NY, yeah, yeah,The season, yeah, this is the season
From Letras Mania