Текстове на песни:
Higher The Black Sunday

Stars are falling from the sky Me left alone to face the night This drive I'm sorting out my life Could it be so hard just to try You're faster at saying

Stars are falling from the sky Me left alone to face the night This drive I'm sorting out my life Could it be so hard just to try You're faster at saying

Stars are falling from the sky Me left alone to face the night This drive I'm sorting out my life Could it be so hard just to try You're faster at saying

, yo, I got to speak? (Why can't you speak? What you big a star now?) Why you got-ta, act like, nigga, all the time (Even on SUNDAY's you should..) Is

hashish, ass-burning Hoes in my black mink, your baby momma lovin' my backseat Freak nasty got me slappin' the ass cheeks of Blackstreet So high, I'm so high

Your girl is easy like Sunday morning your girl is easy Your bitch is easy like Sunday morning She was riding in the Acura I pulled up from the back

' pictures for high times, me mugs and sen Chillin' with the beastie boys, smokin' lots of weed But it was time to hit the studio for another LP '93, black Sunday

and "stayin crunk" Its easy to pull a breezy, smoke trees, and we stay drunk Yo, I activism - attackin the system, the blacks and latins in prison Numbers of prison they victim black

Screw, that Key-C in this bitch, my nigga Jonathan, I got about 6 or 7 pounds from him, we broke em all down and we all got high, our niggas dont be trippin