…..Pay no attention to that negro behind the curtains, he’s just hurt’n, even though he’s smirking, chances are he’s smoking, yeah toking, and I ain’t joking, that stuff that keeps you floating, showboating and choking. There’s the doorman again, and he dropped his needles, I know they wasn’t for the measles, he was moving slower then my aunt Cecil, took him all day to say I hate to be you; pee yoo, he stunk, with a hairdo like a punk, walking through the city of Oz collecting junk. There was a tree monkey named Huggy, he drove a black buggy, and gave out hugs, as he looked smug, then he’d attempt to sale you drugs, smart enough to charge his phone on electric sockets, kept change in his pockets, had instincts not to drop it; stop it, I laugh… cause I’m getting off topic.. there was no traffic, the streets was made of plastic, the mayor looked like Chadwick, their trains ran off static, it was so drastic, it felt tragic, but the fact it was black and brown made it fantastic.