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About Ponce

Fuck, I’m ramblin—17 typos comin, prolly, who gives a shit? Point is, findin a prostitute ain’t just sex—it’s a hunt, a hustle. Greed is good, keeps ya sharp—seein angles, dodgin traps. Like Bob Harris in the movie, I’m lost, but I’m runnin the show. Exaggeratin? Maybe—I ain’t bangin supermodels every night, but the thrill? Real as fuck. You try it, buddy—tell me if ya don’t feel like a goddamn king for 20 minutes. “Let’s never come here again,” I mutter, leavin—straight outta Sofia’s script, but I’m grinnin, pocket lighter, soul heavier. Greed, baby—fuckin beautiful.

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escort with motorcycle outriders and helicopters enjoy a private concert by members of the netherlands philharmonic escorts and gratuities.

When the dude finally shows up, he’s all flustered. Apparently, he got lost on Calle de la Paz. I’m like, “Dude, it’s literally a straight shot!” But whatever, we get down to business. He shows me this new product line, and I’m like, “This is fire!” But then he drops the price. My jaw hits the floor. I’m like, “You trippin’! Ain’t nobody payin’ that!”

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