| Holes in our ceiling, holes in our roof
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| Hope that we’ve got it made have gone in a poof
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| When we gonna be turnin the tide
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| When we gonna see we got god on our side
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| Quail and dumplings down to the end
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| God and her minions as our bosom friends
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| We got empty tummies but it won’t always be
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| One day it’s gonna be quail and dumplings for we
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| Too big our slippers too small our bed
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| Too bent our bosom and too broke our head
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| We must tip the bottom in order to rise
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| Find peace in a hobble to find home in the skies
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| And i a woman and you a man
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| Why wait for someday, why make a plan
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| Fuck birds in the bushes let’s take 'em in hand
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| Weather ain’t judgment and money ain’t love
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| The crimes of a criminal ain’t doubt from above
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| I’ll hold your hand and we’ll say it’s enough
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| Satisfied minds clean hearts and clean tongues |