Текстове на песни:
Grand Avenue

tables or silk brocade Or see a bold and brassy night club show, On the most exciting thoroughfare I know. We call it Grant Avenue, San Francisco, California

the rags Hard-headed, but my top peelin' back Tinted glass on my '57, nigga with a attitude Me, young and radical, methods are mathematical Let my convertible marinate on the avenue

, fuck your lifestyle Put your lights out Get the shit to crackin' got you feelin' with your pipes out Time for some action, surfin' the avenue Mad at

Just me and you, oh baby, and the songs turn again Don't worry 'bout a damn thang We used to be short on the avenue so broke on the avenue I couldn'

it honest, that's why the blacks get mad at you Even foreigners shop and got big gratitude I make more than you, but you got this attitude Like I can't be shoppin? at Saks Fifth Avenue

A summer night the hot the heat Sit at my desk fluorescent light Drawing a picture of a perfect moment I saw it once on a grand avenue That stretched

the air Dirty scumbags begging change and litter in the street The smell of trash, roasted nuts and homeless in the heat Fuck Central Park Fuck the port authority Fuck Grand

I dream of touring like Duke Ellington in my own railroad car I dream of waiting on the tall blonde wooden benches in a grand station aglow with grace

sweet See'd us move on and grow to another plateau With me and havin' that dough In the last days when critical times are left To deal with my grand