Placeholder: Give it to me baby uh huh uh huh And all the girlies say I'm pretty fly for a white guy Uno, dos, tres, cuatro, cinco, cinco, seís You know it's kinda hard just to get along today Our subject isn't cool but he fakes it anyway He may not have a clue and he may not have style But everything he lacks well he makes up in denial Give it to me baby uh huh uh huh And all the girlies say I'm pretty fly for a white guy Uno, dos, tres, cuatro, cinco, cinco, seís You know it's kinda hard just to get along today Our subject isn't cool but he fakes it anyway He may not have a clue and he may not have style But everything he lacks well he makes up in denial

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@generalpha

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Give it to me baby uh huh uh huh And all the girlies say I'm pretty fly for a white guy Uno, dos, tres, cuatro, cinco, cinco, seís You know it's kinda hard just to get along today Our subject isn't cool but he fakes it anyway He may not have a clue and he may not have style But everything he lacks well he makes up in denial

large hands

1 year ago

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22h Diffusion

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7

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512 × 768

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Give it to me baby uh huh uh huh And all the girlies say I'm pretty fly for a white guy Uno, dos, tres, cuatro, cinco, cinco, seís You know it's kinda hard just to get along today Our subject isn't cool but he fakes it anyway He may not have a clue and he may not have style But everything he lacks well he makes up in denial
Tank Girl wore a patchwork of punk-rock attire, each piece a symbol of her fierce individuality. A tattered leather jacket, adorned with an eclectic assortment of pins and patches, clung to her lithe frame. Fishnet stockings ran beneath the cutoff shorts that defied the scorching heat. Her combat boots were worn and scuffed, bearing witness to countless adventures across the wastelands. In her grip, she held a weapon that was both her ally and her declaration of defiance—a hefty, modified firear
[art by Greg Smallwood] Rambo
Aaliyah was a force to be reckoned witha woman whose spirit burned with an unyielding determination and an insatiable thirst for adventure. With fiery hair cascading in loose waves down her shouldersAaliyah possessed an allure that drew people inleaving them captivated by her vibrant presence. Aaliyah's eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint, hinting at the secrets she held within.
Give it to me baby uh huh uh huh And all the girlies say I'm pretty fly for a white guy Uno, dos, tres, cuatro, cinco, cinco, seís You know it's kinda hard just to get along today Our subject isn't cool but he fakes it anyway He may not have a clue and he may not have style But everything he lacks well he makes up in denial
Tank Girl wore a patchwork of punk-rock attire, each piece a symbol of her fierce individuality. A tattered leather jacket, adorned with an eclectic assortment of pins and patches, clung to her lithe frame. Fishnet stockings ran beneath the cutoff shorts that defied the scorching heat. Her combat boots were worn and scuffed, bearing witness to countless adventures across the wastelands. In her grip, she held a weapon that was both her ally and her declaration of defiance—a hefty, modified firear
When you wanna come Come Get it up The scene of love Oh feel it Relax, don't do it When you wanna go do it Relax, don't do it Relax, don't do it When you want to suck, chew it Relax, don't do it One time, one time, one time (hey!)
tank girl by Greg Smallwood
Give it to me baby uh huh uh huh And all the girlies say I'm pretty fly for a white guy Uno, dos, tres, cuatro, cinco, cinco, seís You know it's kinda hard just to get along today Our subject isn't cool but he fakes it anyway He may not have a clue and he may not have style But everything he lacks well he makes up in denial
doing nothing probably, that's the Banksy, The Eminem
Aaliyah was a force to be reckoned witha woman whose spirit burned with an unyielding determination and an insatiable thirst for adventure. With fiery hair cascading in loose waves down her shouldersAaliyah possessed an allure that drew people inleaving them captivated by her vibrant presence. Aaliyah's eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint, hinting at the secrets she held within.
Tank Girl wore a patchwork of punk-rock attire, each piece a symbol of her fierce individuality. A tattered leather jacket, adorned with an eclectic assortment of pins and patches, clung to her lithe frame. Fishnet stockings ran beneath the cutoff shorts that defied the scorching heat. Her combat boots were worn and scuffed, bearing witness to countless adventures across the wastelands. In her grip, she held a weapon that was both her ally and her declaration of defiance—a hefty, modified firear
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