Throw her body off the top bunk
I stuff you in the trunk, drunk
I got ten bad bitches in two bunk beds,
Odd future leaving even niggas in past tense
Shit now i'm going to hell maybe i'll bunk with hitler,and we could take turns in
So both of our imaginations are creations of the fucking situation
I got ten bad bitches in two bunk beds,
And a nigga so fly i should be droved in jets
Cause i hung my original self from the top bunk with a belt
You told me life would never, ever, ever get this perfect
Changed numers i left apology letter under the bunk bed she was
I was hyper because i didn't get attention from my real pops
My brother on the bottom bunk, hates it, but it's all right
Niggas run and hidenapoleon will provide
You're so drunk take a nap on your bunk, you’re dealing with stuntman, so be aware
Show me some happiness again, i'm going blindi spend my time in this cell, ain't living well
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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