Skateboard into the L. Transfer onto A. Thrash around projects off 125th and St. Nick. Take Fredrick Douglas to Central Park North. Kick-flip next to a couple tourists that end up hugging you and taking personal photos of in groups of four. Nothing online. Complete catfish aesthetics. Hidden in Fugitive fashion. A subway club reality of Train Trax. Trance-minded on the level of skyline. Trips like a droplet and tab away from swallowing shots of shots and coconut tequila. Party like Bootleg Tapes is the most endless line-up of music modern labels have conceptualized. Leaping six-stacks because of body height and complete mind-body coordination. Train Trax like there’s never been a halt in public transit since the last black out. When crime was beyond graffiti. But when there’s everything in the world to conquer, Fugitive will always be around to help you push past it all with Train Trax:
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