Song Lyrics: The Season (Nas)

Below are the lyrics of Nas's new song, The Season. This is the first single released off his yet to be titled 11th studio album.    

[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 I'd 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', knot 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


courtesy of Rap Genius