Mila Joshua Tree Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Dallas

I’m pacin’ now, talkin’ to her, she’s spillin’ stories—says she’s savin’ for a kid, but I’m wonderin’ if it’s true. I’m Kanye, I overthink, I’m like, “Is this a hustle or heart?” Don’t matter, I’m droppin’ some cash, not ‘cause I’m soft, but ‘cause I’m human, ya feel? I’m shoutin’ in my head, “I’ve abandoned my child!” like Plainview, ‘cause damn, we all abandon somethin’ out here. I’m typos galore, man, writin’ this sloppy—fnd a prsotitute, ha, see that? My fingers wild, my soul wilder. This ain’t glamorous, it’s gritty, but I’m alive, I’m feelin’ it, and that’s the vibe. Kanye out, chasin’ truth, spittin’ fire, done.

Post navigation

within Joshua. But, Joshua didn’t have an easy answer. He didn’t want a child prostitute. He wanted a very young wife. Well almost. What Joshua really wanted, in the deepest recesses of .

Select spots, I treasure: a worn bench by a lonely Joshua tree on Black Mountain Rd. It speaks, it does, "Do or do not..." And great it makes me think, even in a hurry like “No time, so time is!” Hrrmm, idk, feels deep.

Backcountry Roads