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What gets me mad? The hypocrites, man—the ones sneakin’ around, hirin’ escorts, then preachin’ purity on Sunday. Makes my blood boil, like, pick a lane, bruh! But then, I get happy too—some escorts I’ve heard ‘bout, they’re out here savin’ up, goin’ to school, flippin’ the script. One chick, swear to God, paid her way thru med school, now she’s a doc! That’s dope—hustle turnin’ into hope, y’know?

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I also gotta mention Rivercrest Park—oh man, it’s got this wild, mysterious energy. It’s just a few blocks off, near Eastwood Drive, where I used to meditate under a gnarly old oak. Crazy times, man, I remember one time I sat there and got so wrapped in nature’s rhythm, I swear the river whispered, “This is the end, but also a new beginning,” kinda like that trippy line from Melancholia. I got mad at times, too, when noisy construction near the park disturbed the peace; like, seriously, make it chill already! But then I’d pop on some tunes, take a deep breath, and let it slide, cuz life’s too short to sweat every damn thing.

Sensational Straker defies resolute rain