| The best of times, the worst of times,
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| the times you can’t ignore.
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| Sometimes you bite the bullet
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| and flip flop on the floor.
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| They tell you where to go,
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| and they tell you what to do.
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| They set your face on fire
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| then stomp it out with their shoes.
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| I ain’t no fool.
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| Mama didn’t raise no fool.
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| The times I can’t complain
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| are the times I do the most.
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| On a diet of black coffee
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| and prozac buttered toast.
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| These eunuchs in their prada
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| and Gucci flavored clothes.
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| Wouldn’t know a fresh perspective
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| if it bit 'em up on the nose.
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| I ain’t no fool.
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| Mama didn’t raise no fool.
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| Don’t do as they say,
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| just say as they do.
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| No flavor’s quite so bitter
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| as the taste of one’s own shoe.
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| I ain’t no fool.
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| Mama didn’t raise no fool. |