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.