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About Philadelphia

But real talk—it’s a hustle that pisses me off sometimes. Dudes out here actin reckless, no protection, no respect—like, bruh, you tryna die? YOLO, sure, but don’t be dumb! I seen some shady cats roll up, thinkin they run the game, and I’m like, “You don’t know me, you don’t know my life!” Surprised me how bold they get—once saw a guy haggle like it’s a car lot, had me dyin laughin but also like, damn, that’s cold.

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I only knew her when she was younger, but she had an exceptional personality and energy. I only knew her when she was younger, but she had.

Back alley bars near Jamestown Road? Fabulously chaotic—kind of like me when I’m had too many drinks. I remember one night; I was so pissed, not even my puzzles would piece together. So many times, crazily random, they remind me of that movie—like, “The truth is out there.” Heck, sometimes I even overthink how intimacy meets life's brutality.

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