Wiz Khalifa Promises |work| Link

Marcus was the kind of trouble that wore good cologne. He leaned against his Charger, a blunt dangling from his lips, the smoke curling like a question mark. When he saw her, he grinned—slow, easy, dangerous.

“I’m serious this time,” he said, passing her the blunt. “No more games. No more disappearing.” wiz khalifa promises

“You know. A ‘stay down, ride with me, we gon’ be alright’ kind of promise.” He pulled out his phone, scrolled, and pressed play. Through the tiny speaker, Wiz Khalifa’s voice floated out— “And I’ll never be the same, no lie…” Marcus was the kind of trouble that wore good cologne