Gimme the reason why it was brother season
Within Easton yo I strive to survive to kill the feeling
Yeah some brothers buggin' money mad
Trying to look dappa
Selling shit giving out licks or pimping out the slappa's
So for the first chapters I reminisce for a deceased
Who died for one lve balling our peace!
Or my brother who got blast in his chest for fate
Shakespeare said life is a stage I call it fate
Well anyway I kinda watching my
Front cause certain friends are full of crap
yeah It's a damn shame with their mind games
Plus no life aims here this rudeboy I dis em out like cocaine
They got crap aims and crap reason's to fight me
Because they like.. Move yourself I ain't no patzie
Yeah.... Its kinda strange how some people change
While societies spitting faster than
A Terry's chocolate orange
Chuh cause someone once said life ain't fair
i care for my brothers but brothers don't care
So yo I live by God and not he gun
And get ready for the forth coming
Talking with my son about the seeds

Seeds have got to grow
Seeds have got to know
Seeds have got to grow
Seeds have got to know

Seeds have got to grow
Seeds have got to know
Seeds have got to grow
Seeds have got to know

Blunted on reality meditate to the system
But when he's born like Kuntah Kenteh watch me lift him
To the stars and the panets and not tha phallic's
Just sun, stars and talks about Mars I got to have it
The only bit of innocence that I ever had
From my a semen from my father from my grandads
Grandson in London to educate one not just books
I travelled the world like lisa not dumb
While sucker sippah's living life for face value
Think yourbrand new
But you ain't changing so damn you
Lost souls who never moved on with their shoes on
In a situation that they can't improve on
Kinda sad situation bad if you live like that
Shit can send you mad
So yo I don't because I won't so watch me buss
This power in perception rudeboy and not justice
That's why I love this documentary on reality
Within society my principality is
To live by God and not the gun
And get ready for the forth coming
Talking with my son about the
Seeds

Back on street guying off phony person's
Leave me alone as the spirituality
Dead smelling aroma's of frauds
Got caught in the ego and didn't see the cloud
On that robert de niro mate talking out loud
Acting to put the fear right back in
Your cerebellum but first I tell 'em facts
And certain heads are swelling
Because they don't like the rhythm
For some it's easier to tell than to listen so listen
Realism and truth ain't the same wave
Within the brainwave check the difference
The order is to maintain
Throughout the struggle and the strife
Because if is the middle word within
The word Life wordlife
So I live by God and not the gun
So I live by God and not the gun
So I live by God and not the gun
And get ready for the forth coming
Talking with my son about the
Seeds

Writer : SMITH, IAN ALEXANDER
Copyright : Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing