When your diamonds have diamonds.
And your hoes have hoes.
And your sprezzy has sprezzy.
What does that make you?
Prince Hamlet of this blog shit.
Scandinavian prep revenge.
Shitting on the yet unknowing world with each nonchalant street snap.
To not give a fuck this much.
Is to be one man picked out of ten thousand.
The only tragedy I see.
Is watching you try and get on my level.
Did some seeming virtuous queen help you twist that tie?
That shit’s practically even, son.
My tail is in another fucking timezone.
Not a hater stirring.
When they peep the disheveled apparel.
That proclaims this G.
Get thee wack ass to the steezery.
And get your cake up.
Because the only state that’s rotten.
Is the state of your motherfucking wardrobe.
Or not to steez?
Is not even a goddamn question.
I just pray.
That in the sleep of death.
All my swag’s remembered.
wait this blog is all too hilarious, in ways i would never have gotten before coming here and encountering princeton poseurism