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It’s Not Rain, God Is Spitting On Us

Fairmont


He plays his drum and he smokes his pot, i
T’s not a lot but it’s all that he’s got,
He drives a car with broken rims,
He can’t win , he can’t win.
So it’s another day that we sit and pray to god above but he turned away and sent us rain when we needed sun.
I find it hard to smile this time , its been awhile but i guess i’ll be fine, when’s it all gonna go my way, someday, someday.

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