This is a song about "Foxes boxes bunches punches crosses wishes peaches dresses matches torches catastrophe"

I changed the stars on the flag into crosses

Had i not been exposed to these things

Together all the timethought it was true love

In a hairy mess, doused with gas, light her dress with matches

Cut the commercial, he be texting all the side bitches

Been dropping classics like you guys were droppin' fire torches,

We're freaky leeches, no sweet peaches or cream,

Be the king, that was part of my dream

Need i say more out in singapore

Three punches to the face, you fall to the floor

He digs a blade in his knuckles which makes for deadly punches

Like a condom that's scuffed up, i'm the wrong one to fuck with

Your dropping more names than ups drops boxes

Oh yeah we're old as fuck, we didn't have our glasses

That scary love, never get married love

Lights out i can't see nothing, think i need some matches