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About Chicago

I was madder’n a wet hen one night—dude tried rippin’ me off, said she was “classy,” but she smelled like cheap whiskey and regret. Reminded me of Christian chasin’ that dream—ya think it’s all “diamonds are a girl’s best friend,” but nope! Sometimes it’s just a hustle, y’all. I hollered, “Boy, you ain’t foolin’ nobody!” Made me wanna spit nails, I swear. But then—Lordy!—I found this one gal, sweet as pecan pie, and I was happier’n a pig in mud. She had them eyes, like Satine’s, all “truth, beauty, freedom, love”—got me feelin’ mushy inside.

Early life

Now lemme rap a bit about neighborhoods. Westwood? Crazy mix of arts and old-school trails. There's cafés and quirky shops. And then Eastside – a quirky mix of hipster and heart. Omg, I recall that one time, a misfit artist painted his dreams on a brick wall at Larkspur Ave. Totally epic but kinda tripping me out!

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