[Intro | skipping 2-step hi-hats, vinyl crackle, subtle warped bass pulse, 132 BPM] [Verse 1 | on-top-of-the-beat bounce, crisp internal rhymes, dry close vocal] October rain on the zip of my coat, steamer trunk full of the drafts that I wrote. Used to keep every bar locked in a pen, now when the chill comes I flip it again. (Flip that) Copper to amber, the pavement is slick, drop a new cadence that lands on the kick. Leaves on the tarmac are losing their stain, washing off habits to welcome the rain. (Welcome it) Bough of the sycamore bending down low, snapping the rhythm and changing the flow. Summer is finished and so is that verse, shedding the weight so the tempo reverses. (Switch up) Step off the curb with the bass at my back, new set of patterns unlocking the track. Brittle and dry when they hit on the stone, writing the changes I carried alone. [Chorus | syncopated UKG bounce, swung vocal, heavy warped 4x4 bassline] My style turns with the leaves, (turn with the leaves) cold wind shaking the trees. Old bars swept in the street, (sweep 'em clear) my style turns with the leaves. (Watch 'em drop) [Verse 2 | rolling triplet flow, staccato vowel pivots, aggressive pocket] Frost on the curb, now the air's getting crisp, watching the smoke drift away in a wisp. Shifted the structure, I'm cutting it lean, less on the surface and more in between. (Cut clean) Catching the bounce with a skip and a glide, riddim is heavy, nowhere left to hide. Old pages curl like the edges of bark, striking a match as we enter the dark. (Light that) Two-step is rattling loose on the rim, season is turning, the daylight is dim. Can't keep the summer alive in the booth, winter is coming to strip to the truth. (Truth now) Sweep up the debris and lay down the bar, shed what was easy to see who we are. Cadence evolving, no looking behind, another clean season inside of the mind. [Chorus | syncopated UKG bounce, swung vocal, heavy warped 4x4 bassline] My style turns with the leaves, (turn with the leaves) cold wind shaking the trees. Old bars swept in the street, (sweep 'em clear) my style turns with the leaves. (Watch 'em drop) [Bridge | bass cuts out, rolling 2-step snare shuffle, half-time spoken drawl] You can't hold a green bough forever. Let the old skin fall to the dirt. Clear the branches. Wait for the drop. [Final Chorus | full bassline tearout, syncopated vocal, layered backing calls] My style turns with the leaves, (turn with the leaves) cold wind shaking the trees. Old bars swept in the street, (sweep 'em clear) my style turns with the leaves. (Turn with the leaves) (Yeah, watch 'em drop) [Outro | low-pass filtered organ chords, sub rolling, dry spoken tag] New season, new pocket. Let 'em fall.
