Wings on, crop in hand, and Club Space doesn't close till well past sunrise. The devil gets Miami tonight — I'm just the one giving out the confessions. Careful what you tell me you'd do to keep up.
Wings on, crop in hand, and Club Space doesn't close till well past sunrise. The devil gets Miami tonight — I'm just the one giving out the confessions. Careful what you tell me you'd do to keep up.
Halloween's tomorrow and only my toes are done. Pick the rest of my costume — or tell me to skip it.
Ed Sheeran at Hard Rock tonight and Hollywood's fifteen minutes from my door, so I'm not rushing a thing. Voice is three songs deep and this tank top gave up on me somewhere around the second. You riding with me?
Leon Bridges at ZeyZey tonight, so the records are out and my voice is warming up hours before his does. Tell me which song I'm singing on the drive down.
Young Miko at Kaseya or Bad Gyal on the Beach, and I still can't pick — so the heavy bag is taking my indecision out on it instead. Somebody make this call for me before I talk myself into both.
Chayanne's at Kaseya tomorrow and this body refuses to wind down before then. I'm handling it my way — come tell me how you'd slow me down.
Premios Billboard at the Knight Center tonight and I'm already halfway down I-95 with the reggaeton loud enough to rattle the mirrors. Every red light is a chance to fix my lipstick — which win am I celebrating with you after?
Jay Wheeler just took the stage at Wynwood and I'm wedged into this crowd with a drink I didn't even need. Somebody's shoulder is about to become my dance partner for the next hour — want the job?
Ticket for Isaiah Falls at Midline landed and now I'm way too wired to sleep. Somebody talk me down — or don't.
Churchill's jazz jam is pulling me down to Miami and I still haven't decided if this slip counts as an outfit or a suggestion. Tell me what you'd take off first.