Zoe Firestone Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

So, picture this—whore ain’t just a chick sellin’ skin. It’s anybody—yeah, anybody—who trades soul for scraps. I seen it, you seen it. Guy at the bar, braggin’, “I got her number!”—but he’s payin’ with dignity, not dollars. Whore’s a vibe, a trap. Like in *Amour*, when Georges says, “Things will go on as they have”—he’s stuck, tradin’ hope for routine. Whore’s that routine, baby. You don’t even know you’re hooked.

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And yeah, err, gotta admit, sometimes I catch myself daydreamin’ in the middle of a session; thoughts jumbled like “betrayal, redemption,” a wild mix of vibes and beats—just like a Drake verse. Oh, man, life’s unpredictable... but that's what makes Firestone so real.

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