| She stands, a target behind the counter
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| And she burns a little more with evry encounter
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| Spit on again and again till her eyes are bloodshot
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| And now they’ve slowly sunken in
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| «There's gotta be more to life than this»
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| She whispers under her breath as she pulls another double shift
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| She’s 21 a single mother of two
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| And this fucking dead end job barely buys enough food
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| It’s slowly killing me I’ve gotta go
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| Cause I can feel my blood pumpin' like the stereo
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| I’ve kept it bottled up inside but now it’s gonna blow
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| So… what are you gonna do when it comes down to you
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| 10 years of fuckin' fast food
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| I’ve been shot at twice and always talked down to
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| Unappreciated, misunderstood
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| Overworked, underpaid, dodging bullets in the hood
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| One thing I’ve learned is that this life’s not for me
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| I can never be a functional member of society
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| The only thing that’s been keeping me sane
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| Is playing these songs cause it eases the pain |