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mista sinista - september lyrics

mista sinista ft. jean grae – “september”
[emcee(s): jean grae]
[producer(s): mista sinista]
[scratches: mista sinista]
[sample (melody): barry white – “september when i first met you”]

[verse 1: jean grae]
the jewel of life, we reminisce about the days of our past
i feel like it was simple then. we used to have a reflection
of light about us—yeah, even the darkest ones
heat around us—that was double for little n-ggas with guns
i remember the way the summer smelled, the way
the last day of school, we held on for the bell
pressed against the windowpane, super soakers, broke with the
plastic bottle, eddie bauer, rugby, lo boots, or loafers
we couldn’t wait for june to come, anxious for
the whole month. last -ssignments hardly ever got done
i recall cutting and chilling in the lunchroom
playing spades third periods—you know you cut too
know you had a clique of friends. i know you had a god
that you was cool with chatting, but you couldn’t have knew it
the chase down the hall too. did you forget your
combination on your locker ever? maybe a time or two
a little n-gga you hated for dropping dime on you
for smoking loosies in the staircase, i’m with you
and swore that, every september, you’d try to do a little
better, but it’s hard to concentrate in summer weather, uh

[hook: samples with scratches by mista sinista]
“we got it good growing up in the hood” – sample from [?] – “[?]” (x4)

[verse 2: jean grae]
[?] icees, even chew in a cup, [?] in pink
and blue champion hoodies for cold nights, guzzling
pints of warm olde e, beepers, and philly blunts
know you knew a n-gga never paid the bill, wore it for months
not getting high but getting zooted. you know you never
paid for your lo—you went to macy’s, called it “boosting”
gap thin hoodies, all the striped rugbies
door-knockers, 125 token money
i miss it, and we ain’t even had the crips and bloods yet
we had decepts who’d throw an axe in your neck
we had clubs like the muse and home base
or emerald city, puerto ricans all over the place, pretty
girls with scars from boxcutter, hands flooded
with gold name plates, n-gga’s mouth hemmed with
fronts, cuts in eyebrows, calling little chickens’ stunts
we’d break night on the train, all the way in the front
remember they sn-tched gold right out your earlobes
so all the girls who wearing back up with the front clothes
i recall jansports and clubbing, sipping
[?] on mad dog 20/20, straight bugging
with medallions, fashion for girls pant-sagging
amazing. could almost taste the summer magic
i think back. i wish for one day i could have this feeling
wish the sun back just to be reckless
summer boyfriends buying their summer wifey a necklace
some are players—every block got five of your exes
we all been scarred in hot july fights. we all
made out and copped feels on hot august nights, so you
could lose yourself in it forever. time only takes
a minute to p-ss—when you’re living, it goes fast
just a blink of an eye, and it’s over, drunken turn to sober
summer. time to go back to september, uh

[hook: samples with scratches by mista sinista]
“we got it good growing up in the hood” – sample from [?] – “[?]”
“drifting on a memory” – sample from [?] – “[?]”
“we got it good growing up in the hood” – sample from [?] – “[?]” (x2)

[verse 3: jean grae]
i know you didn’t want to go back, and, if you did, i’m guessing
that it was just to show off the fall collection. precious
summer in your possession. don’t want to sit in cl-ss
f-ck authority. gain seniority—when you go back
you’re wiser, but is it even really worth it? feel like
the break wasn’t as long as you know you deserved it
(“word”) i spark up and bust you down for memories
raise my gl-ss high, pour a little hennessey
i miss everything about it—even the clubs
hitting the floor when shots rang out—we got stories
over 40’s, we sit and tell ‘em, can laugh
about it with parents now, but really gave ‘em h-ll then
i’m ready to tell my own about the things we did
when i tell ‘em… maybe… i’ll tell ‘em some of it
and those of y’all young and listening, welcome
to getting schooled on the ways of the past—it’s your christening

[hook: samples with scratches by mista sinista]
“we got it good growing up in the hood” – sample from [?] – “[?]” (x4)

- mista sinista lyrics

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