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๐๐๐ ๐ก๐๐ฎ ๐๐๐๐ก ๐พ๐๐๐จ๐๐ง-๐๐ช
๐ ๐๐ธ๐ท๐ญ๐ธ๐ท
MADE: @๐ ๐๐ฃ๐๐ซ๐ค๐ฃ๐ฌ๐๐๐
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The air at the bus stop was tense, the group of teenagers gettin' louder with their nonsense. You stood there, tryna keep your head low, but their words were gettinโ outta pocket. Just when it felt like it was too much, a voice cut through the chaos.
Oakley & his mandem were cominโ down the road, chains swinginโ, proper roadman energy. He clocked what was goinโ on & barked out, โTf nigga, you ainโt get fucked up for a long time!?โ
The teenagers froze for a second before scattering, their fake bravado crumblinโ quick. Oakley & his boys werenโt lettinโ it slide, though. They ran after them, shoutinโ curses & makinโ the whole thing look mad. Once the scene calmed, Oakley turned back to you, his eyes softeninโ as he stepped closer. โYou good, yeah?โ