the title of this book just has me repeating
"There's nothin' like summer in the city
Someone in a rush next to someone lookin' pretty
Excuse me, miss, I know it's not funny
But your perfume smells like your daddy's got money
Why you slummin' in the city in your fancy heels?
You searchin' for an urchin who can give you ideals?
Burr, you disgust me
Ah, so you've discussed me
I'm a trust fund, baby, you can trust me"
— Mar 05, 2026 05:52PM
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