Immediate download of Santa Ana Winds in your choice of 320k mp3, FLAC, or just about any other format you could possibly desire. All proceeds go directly to the artist!
Written, produced, and performed by Grip Grand. Engineering, enhancement, and scratches by DJ Abstract/A. Posell.
lyrics
(Spotted at the corner of Superior and Venice
I put sugar in the dosage so it's easier to finish...)
Breezier than when it's hurricanes and Santa Ana Winds
The quest remains, will you step up or get set up like mannequins?
If I had a fin for every sucker we busted, I'd cash it in
On def bracelets like Mr. Hood so that Grip could look masculine?
Yo, eff that so much
Even with my King Midas-ish solid-gold touch
I would still insist on killin' the crowd as if I was Cold Crush
Even my old stuff gets you in the end like it was coal dust
You rhyme bogus
'Til they line us up and blindfold us
G & G be tryin' to redefine the way you see a rhyme
And the odds of it being mine if it's wack is "no chance"
That's like playing Nation of Millions
and trying to slow dance
This ain't a romance
But I love the mic, me and her like to hold hands
Seein' her with another man, I can't begin to fathom
So I grab 'em both, drag 'em back to the lab
and split the atom
Get the heck out of Dodge
I don't grip the gatlin', but in case we
Have to blast a lyric at the hats of cats who try to chase me? Here's the DJ...
Are you feeling flooded? Overflowing, never knowing where the river's going
If or when it's slowing down enough for you to get out?
Found it's tough to pull your head out of the place you got it stuck in?
Face the fuckin' music, suckers step a lot like double-dutchin'
When the wind blows,
you can feel it, fresh like open windows
Airin' out the music that you care about
Raring out the box to go
Stickin' it like a popsicle's impossible when everyone's
sick in it like a hospital, or thereabouts
The wheels spun, the DJ played reminders of the kind of pain you feel from
The needle and the damage done like Neil Young
When freedom rings, will rappers heed the call and clip the strings as if they're sick of things,
or stick you in the chest like nipple rings?
Grip'll bring a bunch of pugilistic punchin' in the function
At the back of dark rooms where I spit sharp like harpoons
Get smart or get lost when Grip toss you off a cliff like cartoons
Catch an anvil
If it isn't Calibrator on the handbill, just cancel
supported by 7 fans who also own “Santa Ana Winds”
Hella Personal, regardless of your experience, there are a multitude of tracks that speaks both generally and specifically to the human experience.
Writ large, it's a post-modern microcosm of being human.
Writ small, it's a vibe tmomonet
