She’s in the “Class A” team, stuck in her daydream, been this way since eighteen, but lately, her face seems slowly sinkin’, wastin’, crumblin’ like “pastries” and they scream, the worst things in life come free to us ‘cause she’s just under the upper hand, and go mad for a couple “grams,” but she don’t wanna go outside tonight, and in a “pipe,” she flies to the motherland, or sells love to another man; it’s too cold outside for angels to fly… Angels to die…
Ahsoka Tano, by El.
