Lyrics Seasons - Equipto , Brycon , The Watershed , Professa Gabel , Monk HTS , B.I. Lectric

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