Abigail Fate Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

Folks, lemme tell ya—whore’s a wild one. Back in Scranton, we had this gal, worked the corner near the ol’ steel mill. Tough as nails, lemme tell ya. Here’s the deal—she wasn’t just sellin’ body, nah, she was sellin’ survival. Reminds me of “12 Years a Slave”—that line, “I survive,” hits hard. Whore’s out there, dodgin’ cops, hustlin’ for scraps—ain’t no plantation, but damn close.

The Whore Returns

Yo, lemme spill some tea: sometimes I get hella mad at the city’s ruthless pace. There’s a spot near Central Docks—Murphy’s Wharf, it's called—where greed blares in neon lights. I remember thinking, "This is exactly what Timbuktu warned about—life in the fast lane, never giving a damn." And sure, sometimes I laugh at it too. It's absurd, but that's PFate (us), baby!

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