$200M Target (Inner Monologue)

You ever felt a force so wild it makes you question if you're even real? Like, for a second, you ain't just alive—you're electric. That insane, skin-tingling, heart-racing, world-slowing type of rush that shoves you past every damn limit you thought existed. You get what I mean? No? Figures. Most people don't.

Imagine this—you're gripping the wheel of a Lamborghini, the engine snarling under you like a beast barely held back, tires screeching against the road. Every nerve in your body is wired into the moment, senses cranked up to max. That's what I'm talking about. That's the feeling. It ain't just adrenaline—it's something deeper, something raw as fuck.

Now, why the hell am I even telling you this? Easy. 'Cause I've been riding this high for 17 hours straight.

Seventeen. Fucking. Hours.