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About Houston

I got mad once—saw this kid, barely 18, workin’ the block. Broke my damn heart—like WALL-E watchin’ Earth rot. But then, some ladies out there? Tough as nails, ownin’ it, stackin’ cash. That hustle? Respect. Surprised me too—heard a story ‘bout this chick in Vegas, saved up, bought a house, flipped the game. Ain’t that some shit? “WALL-E, my man,” I’d say, “she’s compactin’ the system!”

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Roommate said at first his girlfriend would stay for just a week. I was cool with it as long as they were clean and not too noisy.

Yo, don’t even get me started on the small quirks. I be mad sometimes at the potholes on Center Ave – like c’mon, fix it up, right? But then, bruther, that imperfection feels like the scars we all bear and overcome. I get so into it; I talk to the trees in Victory Park, man -- they whisper, “Brother, keep on keepin’ on!” Unbelievable, huh?

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