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2001 Honda S2000. Bright pink, lots of sparkles.
-80 mph.
1999 Nissan Skyline GT-R R34 SV. Blue and grey.
-100 mph.
1995 Toyota Supra Mark IV. Orange with an eagle wing on its side.
-120 mph.
2002 Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution VII. Greeen and Blue.
-140 mph.
1997 Mazda RX-7. Gold, black doors.
-180 mph.
SKIRTT!
One by one, foot on the break they park in the only shaded clean area. A crowd hovering on them like New York city pigeons.
A slam from the Honda. Asian chick.
A slam from the Nissan. White boy.
A slam from the Mitsubishi. Lightskin.
A slam from the Mazda. Legend.
Silence.
Kaeman Antonio fucking Zoila.
He's back. And they've got a little sister to.
How cute.
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Ꮬ匕丹尺工ＱᏜ ______________________
Racewars was in the middle of the desert. It was like a second home to me at this point. It was humid out and all you could see was ass out, tits out, and everyone favourites the cars were out.
The rules of Racewars was the same rules for streetracing. You lose your car and your cash. But racewars was kinda diffrent. Everybody got in new cars just for this and by everybody i mean every street in the city would be in this damn desert just for somthin fresh.
There was a job tonight at 3 am. Oil companies hired their trucks to use this road to get it illegally into Mexico. And oil equals gold and gold equals money. Tonight we had a big one. Two trucks with more than 136 Kiloliters of crude oil.
"YOO." Speed a short guy with cornrows dapped me up.
