The Season Lyrics by Nas
[Verse 1]
United States in fear
London knows I'm a phantom, South Korea
knows I'm here
Posted, planted without exception
Rise to your feet for
this gravity
Nas and Dilla beat, the fly soliloquy
Some real nigga
talkin'
This don't happen too often, take precaution
Liars and frauds got
you exhausted
You've been accosted
Who told you've I lost it?
I just
put it down for a second, damn
Can 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 labor
Before they call me Luke
and hand me my lightsaber
The ruler's back, you can tell by the
trumpets
Prince of Wales sent me tea, biscuits, crumpets
Jewelry cost more
than the car, car cost 200
Get out your chair, the season of Nasir
[Hook]
(Da-da-da-da-da
Da-da-da-da-da)
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)
The
season
(Da-da-da-da-da
Da-da-da-da-da)
[Verse 2]
Jay Elec doesn't write it
HOV couldn't write it, he
vacationin'
Jungle the only brother I take shit from
Hassan give me lines,
we talk all the time
So I guess if he inspired my song it ain't mine
Let
me make this clear, they fear the gifted
Some say Shakespeare never
existed
Wow, now, look at the amount of resistance
Attempts to chisel my
face, from the mountain you guessed it
Bitch you guessed it
There, did I
answer your questions?
So, now that's out the way let's get back to my
message
Now I'm 40 and a little change
Ride around, sport a new Benz, a
little Range
Havin' fun, my little man gettin' big
He and my daughter
down, when we talk it's real
Nothin' is watered down, young boy swag
I'm
here today as well as the 90's
But the past life, my ass is behind
me
Ignite the pyrex
Try to bite this, get Nasty Nas-itis
Arthritis when
you try to write this
Asking why is the Feds at my niggas?
Why the Feds at
my niggas?
I know by now I should be talkin' bread, crack, and figures
But
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' them
Hey yo, it's love for
Detroit, Mo-Town, Motor City
Dilla lives on, it's like he wrote it with
me
The soulful sample complements my rhyme so well
Slacks by Zegna, or
YSL
Matchin' the Saint Laurents, I'm fly as hell
Hands in the air, the
season of Nasir
[Hook]
[Outro]
Yeah, It's that time, yeah, Dilla rest in peace, what up
Detroit?
Fly ladies, dope dealers and killers
Worldwide, NY, yeah, yeah,
the season, yeah, this is the season
