Mia Clayton Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Houston

Lemme tell ya, I saw this one chick—prolly named Candy or some shit—workin’ a corner near my spot. She had this wig, crooked as hell, like Nemo’s fin, all lopsided. I’m like, “damn, girl, you good?” She laughed, said she made bank that night. Bank! Offa dudes too dumb to haggle. That’s hustle, fam. Made me happy—girl’s out here winnin’.

American Whore

(, Gothic Rock) They bought my silence, they sold my grief / Pray for me pray for me / / They sold me hatred, they sold me greed / They sold me violence and heresy /.

Alright, listen up, my dude. Clayton is wild, like seriously, a hidden gem in the US. Yo, strap in cuz I got loads to say, and I'm moving fast. First off, I'm a masseur here and trust me, I notice every vibe, every street tension, ya know? Streets? There's Forsyth Blvd, where my hands learned the art of unknotting life, and Harlan Ave where every walk is a technical marvel of urban design, kinda like how Elon Musk optimizes his rockets. Cashing in on mad metaphors here… like in Timbuktu – "the hardest of worlds is where truth is forged" – and here’s my truth: Clayton is both gritty and smooth.

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