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United States in fear |
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London knows I'm a phantom, South Korea knows I'm here |
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Posted, planted without exception |
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Rise to your feet for this gravity |
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Nas and Dilla beat, the fly soliloquy |
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Some real nigga talkin' |
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This don't happen too often, take precaution |
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Liars and frauds got you exhausted |
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You've been accosted |
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Who told you've I lost it? |
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I just put it down for a second, damn |
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Can the king lounge for a second, kick his hooves up? |
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Grow stubble on the face for once without a smooth cut? |
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Grow a little gut, can't even enjoy the fruit of my labor |
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Before they call me Luke and hand me my lightsaber |
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The ruler's back, you can tell by the trumpets |
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Prince of Wales sent me tea, biscuits, crumpets |
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Jewelry cost more than the car, car cost 200 |
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Get out your chair, the season of Nasir |
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(Da-da-da-da-da |
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Da-da-da-da-da) |
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The season |
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(Da-da-da-da-da |
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Da-da-da-da-da) |
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This is the season |
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(Da-da-da-da-da |
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Da-da-da-da-da) |
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The season |
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(Da-da-da-da-da |
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Da-da-da-da-da) |
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Jay Elec doesn't write it |
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HOV couldn't write it, he vacationin' |
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Jungle the only brother I take shit from |
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Hassan give me lines, we talk all the time |
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So I guess if he inspired my song it ain't mine |
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Let me make this clear, they fear the gifted |
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Some say Shakespeare never existed |
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Wow, now, look at the amount of resistance |
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Attempts to chisel my face, from the mountain you guessed it |
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Bitch you guessed it |
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There, did I answer your questions? |
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So, now that's out the way let's get back to my message |
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Now I'm 40 and a little change |
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Ride around, sport a new Benz, a little Range |
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Havin' fun, my little man gettin' big |
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He and my daughter down, when we talk it's real |
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Nothin' is watered down, young boy swag |
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I'm here today as well as the 90's |
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But the past life, my ass is behind me |
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Ignite the pyrex |
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Try to bite this, get Nasty Nas-itis |
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Arthritis when you try to write this |
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Asking why is the Feds at my niggas? |
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Why the Feds at my niggas? |
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I know by now I should be talkin' bread, crack, and figures |
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But not stressin', not stressin' |
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I'm survivin', I'm survivin' |
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It's funny when I catch cops textin' and drivin' |
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Who questions and penalizes them? |
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One day we'll have their ass in court and we'll be tryin' them |
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Hey yo, it's love for Detroit, Mo-Town, Motor City |
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Dilla lives on, it's like he wrote it with me |
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The soulful sample complements my rhyme so well |
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Slacks by Zegna, or YSL |
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Matchin' the Saint Laurents, I'm fly as hell |
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Hands in the air, the season of Nasir |
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(Da-da-da-da-da |
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Da-da-da-da-da) |
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The season |
|
(Da-da-da-da-da |
|
Da-da-da-da-da) |
|
This is the season |
|
(Da-da-da-da-da |
|
Da-da-da-da-da) |
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The season |
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(Da-da-da-da-da |
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Da-da-da-da-da) |
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Yeah, It's that time, yeah, Dilla rest in peace, what up Detroit? |
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Fly ladies, dope dealers and killers |
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Worldwide, NY, yeah, yeah, the season, yeah, this is the season |
