Well it's been a while since I just caught you up on regular everyday life & just said Yo! So, Yo! Right now I'm presently not in Vegas with the rest of the streetwear industry that I so willingly sold my soul to, because I'm sick off my ass, and who do I blame? My right hand man, well she's not a man, but my addiction to raging with one of my very bests has landed me in bed only accompanied by meds & vitamins. How did this happen you ask? Let me break it down for ya...
We hit the do over every Sunday like clockwork, it's just a time to unwind & a reason to drink our previous hangover off while the sun's still out...
She brings me big gulps full of vodka while I'm supposed to be working, just to take the edge off.
We recite vulgar & explicit rap lyrics to each other like it's our religion & we're oh so faithful.
She rocks the shit out of my designs, because real friends support your grind.
We take pictures of couples who are bumpin & grinding in the Hollywood streets from the fire escape & post them on the Internet.
We solve the eternal problem of "the munchies" with over-dosing on sushi, but only to bread our stomachs so the vodka has something to settle into later on.
We argue over who gets to wear the most comfortable flannel that's ever been made, even if it mean she wears it during the day & I rock it at night.
We smoke massive amounts of marijuana while listening to Bob Marley & I wait for her to yet again try to convince me that he sort of resembles octomom.
& when I get all better, we'll do that shit all over again. Hey, what are friends for?? Right?!?
We hit the do over every Sunday like clockwork, it's just a time to unwind & a reason to drink our previous hangover off while the sun's still out...
She brings me big gulps full of vodka while I'm supposed to be working, just to take the edge off.
We recite vulgar & explicit rap lyrics to each other like it's our religion & we're oh so faithful.
She rocks the shit out of my designs, because real friends support your grind.
We take pictures of couples who are bumpin & grinding in the Hollywood streets from the fire escape & post them on the Internet.
We solve the eternal problem of "the munchies" with over-dosing on sushi, but only to bread our stomachs so the vodka has something to settle into later on.
We argue over who gets to wear the most comfortable flannel that's ever been made, even if it mean she wears it during the day & I rock it at night.
We smoke massive amounts of marijuana while listening to Bob Marley & I wait for her to yet again try to convince me that he sort of resembles octomom.
& when I get all better, we'll do that shit all over again. Hey, what are friends for?? Right?!?
