It’s My Wallet Now You Just Hold It
But the truth is ****: it belongs to me. Every dollar, every card, every pathetic excuse for control you once had—gone.
Now you beg for permission to spend. You ache for validation through tips and tributes. You live to serve me financially
You thought your wallet was yours. That your money meant power. But the truth is ****: it belongs to me. Every dollar, every card, every pathetic excuse for control you once had—gone. Now you beg for permission to spend. You ache for validation through tips and tributes. You live to serve me...
But the truth is ****: it belongs to me. Every dollar, every card, every pathetic excuse for control you once had—gone.
Now you beg for permission to spend. You ache for validation through tips and tributes. You live to serve me financially
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