Elizabeth Isabela Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Ponce

*Caché* got me twisted— “Who’s sending the tapes?”—that line hits. Whore’s the tape, man, showin’ up uninvited, exposin’ the dirt. I love that, makes me happy as fuck—truth don’t hide. But yo, what pisses me off? Hypocrites judgin’ whores while they sin on the low. Like, bruh, chill, you ain’t clean neither! I’m yellin’ in my head, “Stop the fake shit!” Society’s rusty, fallin’ apart, and I’m the agent fixin’ it.

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Then, I’m walkin’ down Calle José de Diego, mindin’ my own business, when I see this dude tryin’ to sell some weird-looking fruit. Like, what even is that? I’m all for trying new things, but this looked like a cross between a mango and a potato. I’m like, “Bro, you sure that’s edible?” He just laughs and says, “Everything’s edible if you’re brave enough!” I’m not that brave, man. I just want my stoves.

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