Well remain on the the train of pain in the rain, ha, i'm insane
That god isn't finished with me yeti feel his hand on my brain
Got a pound in the trunk ya know whats up, smokin on that ganja til the sun comes up.
Now this counselor is trying to tell me that i'm emo, she don't give a fuck
You know your son a asshole, but i hope you got those stacks though
His mama told him not to go out in the rain eya-eya o
Lil rasta off the ganja like he pose to be
Why don't you just get a little taste baby
Begin to make me feel like a little kid again
I sustain my strut, whilst you fall down the drain, in the rain.
Searching for fortune and fame
Shout to the clouds n the rain
The big bad wolf to me you're just a minor fox
Sparking ganja in a honda van of soccer moms
After the fire, comes the rain
I swear i'll never call you bitch again
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