Ever since I was a young boy
I felt the rain and the rain did for pour
But somewhere in the roar of thunder
I ignore my pain inside and I wonder
What the storm sees, when does the storm cease?
Or does it never stop?
If I sailed the stormy seas to see the last drop
I’ve seen the seasons are off, the drought came
I’ve been in better weather, yet still, I can't complain
Although the grain in the field is yielding lesser crop
And the thermometer says today is hot
I’m thinking, maybe not
It probably doesn't lie, but I rely on the sky and spy gray clouds lurkin’ overby
Blue days are warm, but be warned, they may change
And it quickly became rain, as the eye of storm cries, cryin’:
And it stoned me, to my soul
I stood there in the cold as if I didn’t know
I felt the rain as it stained my bones
And it soaked me, filled my hole
Shiverin’, quiverin’, but chillin’, not miserable
When it comes to water, you can get your own
I claim it prophane, they portray me as a slave
Like that's my only role?
The water bearer, Aquarius, swearing, “Fuck it,
You can have these buckets, but you can’t have my soul,”
That’s bold, and I know you love it
But won't you show it
To gratify this poet, so I can know it
All my raps, this is why I wrote it
Give me something to hold, so I don’t have to be up shit creek with nothin’ to row wit’
Just go with, something, anything that doesn’t seem so hopeless
Wherever you are, it’s not hard, it doesn’t take much focus
I’m from the Bay, near the ocean
But still, play this while it’s snowin’
Any place to remind you of a way to escape without goin’
Anywhere, it’s not that I hardly care about you
It’s just that, the well is right over there
If you want it, and won’t go get it
Well, I’m not about to.
Get your own fucking water!
