Seasons (feat. Equipto, Monk HTS, Professa Gabel, B.I. Lectric & Brycon)

When Caught up in nostalgia old school products Made a few steps tried to boycott Starbucks More death threats but they all be anonymous Never the less yes the hate all stems from the politics From the outside looking in Easy to say how the situation could of been When you're in the shade and you're miles away from your bloodline Still magnetically connected to your love life Undeniably we exist as a dying breed but still a vagrant to society It's a no win there's no love it's hopeless To cope with the pain when your spirits been broken As cold as the season changes so frequent Adapt to the city life foe one feeve it mayn No trust fund we just bust lungs Although I show compassion it's done with tough love One Waiting for love is like waiting for winter Had to hustle in the rain just to get a plate of dinner There's a past and a future baby saints and sinners Keep the edges all sealed so the hate can't enter Watershed get with B-I. Electric The method is perfected it really ain't no exit We closer to the ledges it just take a small push but a bird in the hand beats two in the bush Trying to stay driven in spit of how ugly it looks Cuz they raised my momma rent and the homies need books This shit ain't all kush it's an ongoing struggle On the corner looking at my reflection up in the puddle Hoping that the jump outs don't find my fucking bundle I done stumbled I done fumbled I got lost in the shuffle I made it out the flames back on my fucking hustle Fist fights and scuffles plus the police trying to cuff you Stuck up in this bubble ain't no love on this level I don't ever hold a grudge I just hold a tune Over do something by chuckling at my nome de plume Only swoon if your willing to faint I could make it half court but I chill in the paint Remain accountable for everything I create In this cold season leaving home but for no reason Didn't sleep one wink for the whole weekend Scope bleekened were the proof that the sco breathing We the youth that improved from our own teachings Indigo season sight tripled six men left more space in the rental The lesson is you'll never leave the bench if you can't dribble I'm just playing but I hate it when your faith dwindles Upkeeping legacy is hard vacating's simple Middle ground could defile your art And the love feels different when we're miles apart