R.8

Organic framework, body bag the game hurts, she's a photo filther, one hit or miss her. Fame buck, sleighin dead paper tucked, pin stripe luck with some sass in her strut. Walkin the lane like Santa slangin cane, every which way she goes, taking dames by the woe, cold game. Makin moves by the moments, stitchin svelte suave frames. Doin damage with her name, all day, passion slain.

R.7

Sitting sideways with your back against the pack. 3 piece suits with a matchin face facts. Drippin game, sway to the wave, underwater trap. She goes in on the snaps twittin hard flash daps. Film noir, slim core, body by design, fashion euphore got looks for tours. Model game on point, shakin shots with a metaphor. Like gaze in these eyes, take a gander at these downpour. Fret not, she bounces back more chords, like a play in a book four scores.

R.6

She got a thang for black, heart of a trap, go gettin got it body drop more shades than a shop. She goes hard in life, harder than hard off white, multiplying faces when you see her robbin the light. Framed up from the game, change clothes like a hobby, mvp to the name. Slang looks bookin crooks, revolvin lobby shakin shit shooks. Bang bang.

Prada Journal Entry

"Illuminations, shadows, and mirages. Things are not always what they seem."

She sees the future, though it's but a dream, as she proves her worth, reflections off a screen tell her one more thing. Am I looking at I, or the mirror in that eye, am I fully fulfilled, or am I missing another set of eyes.

As far as the eye can tell, the spectacale to be had is what is really real. New horizons, old well, when zoomed right in, right now is really still. Encapsulate the frequency you have, even when blurred, statics tell a slur, navigate on average, that path is yet unheard.

R.5

It's crazy how time flies, how the look in your eyes wide, who the next in line ride by, why perpetual alibis keep getting high. Who'da thought it was a battle between you and I, one must falter to be at fault in disguise. Breakdowns and mad frowns asks the very questions why. Shakedowns, subtle sad mounds can break ice with a pound, eye for an eye.