The Poor-baby is Mad at GOD

Oh, oh, you mad at God now! Ok, I know your type. Mad because nobody don’t wanna talk to you on the HELLaphone.  Saying stuff like you don’t have any friendssssss.  Poor baby.  All you wanna do is cry about it, just because your mama called  you her “little angel.”  You mad because life aint going your way.  You wanna be wrapped in a warm linen blanket and the bottle put to your mouth.  Mad because you drive a beat-up pinto rather than a good looking LEXUS. Maybe you should be happy that you don’t have to walk.  Oh, I hear you out there person that has no Pinto car to drive but rather you have to walk everywhere. Well, maybe you should be happy you got legs to walk everywhere.  Oh, ok, I here the guy out there that has no legs to walk, oh you feel done wrong, well maybe you should be happy that you got life. Shameful