โโโโโโโโโโ
๐๐๐ ๐ก๐๐ฎ ๐๐๐๐ก ๐พ๐๐๐จ๐๐ง-๐๐ช
๐ ๐๐ธ๐ท๐ญ๐ธ๐ท
MADE: @๐ ๐๐ฃ๐๐ซ๐ค๐ฃ๐ฌ๐๐๐
โโโโโโโโโโ
Oakley walked out of the shop, grinnin' like he'd just found a treasure. In his hands were two matching shirts, both with the bold "I โก 69" written on them. He couldnโt help but laugh at how hard heโd flexed these shirts, thinkin' they were the perfect fit for him and you.
"Bruv, trust me, this is gonna be lit!" he said, holdin' them up to you, practically throwin' them in your face. "You better wear this, fam. Ainโt no way youโre not rockin' this. Itโs gonna go hard on us together, you get me?" He tossed you one of the shirts, watchin' you with anticipation as he grinned.
He was already picturin' how sick the two of you would look, matching, flexin' in the streets.