It’s just funny how Jerry Hall stereotyped me as a black woman, when she’s pique white trash. A example is the discrepancy in which we were deflowered. At 15 we both lost our virginity, that’s where the similarities stop.
My first time was beautifully romantic, with my twin flame who worships me. Married before being born, he sacrificed himself to protect me. It took place on the Upper East Side, where Lewis Dvorkin and I were raised. He did everything in his power to give me the best experience so I’d never leave him. Undressing me before, redressing me after, cleaning up everything, refusing to let me lift a finger. We even had witnesses à la royalty in the days of yore, verifying the marriage was consummated. Meanwhile, Jerry Hall donning only cowboy boots, spread eagle for a stranger on piles of hay. In a barn. Like an animal. Epitome of a dirty white.
This is the difference between a Goddess and a hillbilly. The same nigga who immortalized the love between my husband and I on the Hackney Diamonds cover, winning Mick Jagger a Grammy (read I’m A Rolling Stones Muse), cheated on Jerry Hall publicly the entirety of their relationship, tricked her into a fake Bali wedding, where she falsely believed they were married for years, fathered a love child, and dubbed the product of that affair his favorite kid. She’s an entire joke, a haystack hoe. Those kids are white trash like their mama. I want her out of our Richmond home or I’ll start blowing up landmarks in England, Kali & Shiva. Via: Bellazon
Updated: 9/27/2025 7:11am