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Replying to: RIP. M.C.A by Gas Lamp Killa
Bradley Nowell
Early in the morning, risin' to the street Light me up that cigarette and I strap shoes on my feet. Got to find a reason, a reason things went wrong. Got to find a reason why my money's all gone. I got a dalmatian, I can still get high, I can play the guitar like a motherf***in' riot!
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