I caught the Red-Eye at midnight. In the nick of time. On a seven forty-seven. An' we soon were flyin' high. . Lord, I had no time to lose. Things were gettin' hot.
Wat a liiv an bambaie. When the two sevens clash. Wat a liiv an bambaie. When the two sevens clash. . My good old prophet Marcus Garvey prophesize, say.