My Stash: Whispers and Wacky Stories
This here's the grimy here side of things. The part where shadows dance, whispers travel faster than a runaway train, and truth gets twisted like a crooked metal fence. We're talkin' loot, ain't no two ways 'bout it. The kind that makes your heart race quicker and your palms sweat. We got smoke signals blinking in the night, telling secrets nobody