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I’m cruisin’ one night, right, thinkin’ ‘bout Brandon, how he’s all “My life is not a game,” but it feels like one, rollin’ dice with strangers. You hit up the block, neon lights flashin’, girls posted up, heels clickin’. You gotta peep the scene—some look tired, some look sharp, like they own the night. Me, I’m laid back, watchin’, not judgin’, ‘cause who am I, ya know? But damn, some shit makes me mad—like these pimps lurkin’, takin’ cuts, fuckin’ up lives. That ain’t cool, G.

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The old bridge on Riverfront Road? Priceless. I’ve sat there thinkin’ bout human connections. Kids playin’, old folks laughin'—so emotional, so raw, man. Really gets to you sometimes. I recall one rainy afternoon, sittin’ there watchin’ splashes on the pavement, feelin’ both mad ‘bout the world’s uncaring ways and happy for these little moments of beauty. Almost poetic.

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