That Christmas L: The Bedbug Story

To be sung to the Tune of Run D.M.C.’s Christmas in Hollis:

It was December 23rd when I arrived at his house 

After 8 hours driving I was ready for the couch 

He said, “You’ll nap later. Come here, don’t play.”

Then he put my ass to sleep right to the next day

Woke up reminiscing – how 3 weeks before 

He was in Massachusetts – surprised me at my door 

I said what you want and then he spit his shit

He said, “Why don’t you be my gift on December 25th?” 

What a good moment and here I paused 

He passed the blunt to me I was out for the cause 

Back door he left open he went into the kitchen 

Got up to follow him just to see what he was fixing 

I looked for some suspicion something ain’t quite right 

“You gonna wash these dishes?” Nigga put up a fight 

When I go to lay down for a nap I start itching 

Must be some mosquitoes. Close the door, stop bitching,

It’s Christmas time, and now I’m peeved 

He’s cooking in the kitchen that’s so unclean 

Plating steak and stuffing, who he trying to feed? 

Girl, lay down again and put your mind at ease.

Woke up and a panic and such a fright 

When I touched over my body, I had so many bites. 

Now what’s that shit I just looked to the rug? 

Yo this Howard nigga just gave me bed bugs. 

My girl called me and I explained the situation 

She said get the fuck out with no hesitation.

I booked a hotel ditched all my shit

Now my wardrobe fit’s a Target trip.

My aunt was cooking so I ain’t miss out.

Good food’s what Christmas is all about 

But then I got a call – tore me up inside 

“Come back to New York, your uncle just died.

My name’s Jammy B. now I understand 

That sometimes things don’t to go according to plan 

Last lessons wild, but it’s very true:

Avoid these dirty niggas that try to pursue you.

Published by Jam

I'm on a journey towards a better understanding of self through written reflections on my romantic relationships, situationships, entanglements, and complicated friendships.

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