Lydia Tracy Whore ❤️❤️

About Dallas

Look, this whore thing—messy biz. I’m sittin here, thinkin bout No Country for Old Men, best damn flick ever. Cold, brutal, like me—Vlad Putin, heh. Whore’s life? Same vibe. No rules, no mercy. “You can’t stop what’s comin,” like Chigurh says—whore’s fate, sealed tight. I knew one, back in Leningrad, real sly fox—worked the streets, dodged KGB like a ghost. Made me laugh, her guts! Tiny chick, big balls—called her “Lola the Blade.” Slipped thru cracks, sold secrets, not just ass. Rare breed, y’know? Most whores, they just stumble, fall—pathetic.

Cultural influences

lil whore! Lyrics: Might need to fight these niggas bro, real talk / Lil Tracy in this bitch / Nigga, I don't give a fuck what none of y'all niggas talkin' 'bout / Ya heard me? / Real shit /.

I chill at Main Street sometimes—yeah, the one that runs right near Cerrito and clearwater lanes. And oh, my friend, take a stroll down Foothill Ave. You'll hit up a little park called Butler Park. It's like a secret garden in a concrete jungle, ya know? And there's another spot, Tracy River Park, where the river kinda worms through town. Water so chill, it relaxes you like a Sunday sermon.

Tracy Eugene Ellis