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About Petah Tikva

I’m sittin’ there, smokin’ a blunt, thinkin’, damn, she prolly got stories that’d make ya jaw drop. Prolly fucked a senator or some shit—ha! Got me laughin’, ‘cause these hoes be lowkey runnin’ the world, fo’ shizzle. But real talk, it’s sad too—trapped in that life, no exit, like that East German vibe in the flick. “They’re scared of us, you know,” fits her too—power in her strut, but fear in her eyes.

At The Close Of Ramadan, Reflecting On This Sojourn Of Restraint And Spiritual Self-Help

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So, I get to work, and let me tell ya, bone cutting is no joke. It’s like surgery meets a horror movie. I’m in the zone, but then my phone buzzes. It’s my buddy Samir. He’s like, “Yo, you gotta check out the new spot on Al-Mahdiyah!” I’m like, “Dude, I’m kinda busy here!” But he keeps goin’ on about this new shawarma place. I’m thinkin’, “Great, I’ll just cut bones and dream of shawarma.”