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About Bologna

I’m mad as hell sometimes, fam—cats out here judgin’ these girls, but they the same ones droppin’ cash for a quick fix. Hypocrites, yo! Me? I’m chill, I respect the grind—everybody eatin’ somehow. Reminds me of *Ida*, that line, “You’re a funny sort of nun”—‘cept it’s “You’re a funny sorta john,” tryna act holy while you sinnin’, ha! Surprised me how deep it runs, tho—like, some of these chicks got stories, not just tricks. One time, I heard ‘bout this girl, worked the docks in Jersey, saved up, bought a damn food truck—flipped the script, now she slangin’ tacos ‘stead of ass. That’s that hustle I stan, Young Mula!

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Then, outta nowhere, this little kid runs into me. I’m like, “Whoa, buddy!” He looks up at me with these big eyes and says, “Are you a superhero?” I chuckle, “Nah, just an industrialist.” But it hit me. Maybe I should be more like a superhero. I mean, I’m trying to save my business, right?

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