I always keep some 55grams sprits around with me, cops see my alps so green they wanna bust me, cuttin that polycarb lean into a half-plate, poppin PBTs like they flyin on OTD.

I'm a serial vintage keyboard murderer. I gut the keyboards to harvest their inner organs so that I can stuff them into metal cases. However, since keyboards feel no pain nor are they self-conscious, the system fails and i'm Roamin free.

What I may lack in typing speed I make up for in sex. Wait. What?