I got a knife, it’s a switchblade, I think it’s time for me to get paid. Gimme your money, don’t hesitate, or you’ll regret it. Here in the alley, it’s just you and me, and the homeless dude, but he’s asleep. Give me your fuckin’ money I repeat.
By the time I was twelve years old—old enough to go and experience select things on my own, without parental supervision, but far too young to be out after 9 p.m. without it—I started getting a weekly allowance.