Man outside in a funkafied trench coat. Cigarette, after cigarette. Shit, doesn’t he know smokin’ ain’t good for ya, especially filter-less Camels? And that badass piece in his pocket; he ain’t foolin’ nobody. He’s all nicotine trigger finger, ready to go off. No aim, just bullets. Hope his mama don’t see him like this, cause I know for sure if she did, she’d whup his sorry ass, and throw away his smokes.
Brad Rose
This piece is loaded! Love it.
Ra tat tat. brilliant.
Nice.