Bum Rap (They Stole)

Now let me tell you something. This ain't expected to be a hit. Being a bum can be some overrated hyped up shit.
Living the life sure ain't fair. In fact, being so dependent can be your worst nightmare.
Afternoon naps for only the employed.
Those of us not working have to stay up all day walking around town sleepless like a zombie.
Once the doors in the evening open, lying in a blanket full of holes feels like wearing Hambercrombie and Glitch.
Just kidding. Having fun.
Finally getting some sleep in the night makes you say,"Thank God and finally, hun."
Now here's the story nothing like helter skelter.
Times can be hard living in a homeless shelter.
Just when I close my eyes, lay my head down to sleep, most nights early in the morning between 3 and 4, these other bum bitches  were digging in my papers and all of my shit!
Barely did I own my own asshole.
These motherckin bitches I can't believe my shit they stole.
Not even a week passed could I slumber, before one of them stole my kid's card that contained their social security number.
Coming there, papers were all I owned.
Numerous journals replaced a void. I guess those hoes got paranoid.
One short, bumpy, and fat, was wearing a green jacket in the middle of the morning, and sometimes a hat.
Yeah, bitch. Hater, the main one. I knew that was you. Waking up the next morning with my journals on a certain numbered bunk and seeing you, too, earlier was a huge clue.
Sometimes for breakfast we ate a lot of rice.
After rifling through my things with some articles they stole, day-to-day was very difficult facing these ladies keeping a straight face and trying to be nice.
Living in that place wasn't too cushy.
If I stayed there any longer they may have tried to steal my ass and pussy.