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About Liege

So, I roll up, windows down, music blarin’. This chick struts over, heels clickin’ like a metronome. I’m thinkin’, “She’s got hustle!” Kinda admire that, ya know? Takes guts to work the streets. But dang, it pisses me off too – why’s she gotta do this? World’s screwed up. “Where were you when I laid the foundations?” – yeah, Malick’s got me ponderin’ heavy stuff.

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Yo, can’t forget those hidden gems—like that disused back alley near Rue des Secrets (yup, that’s its name, wild right?), where graffiti tells wild stories of forgotten love and scandal. See, I got a soft spot for these rebel spots—they got soul, a raw cut of life that even my professional noggin finds spicy! And don’t get me started on that rickety old bridge on Chemin du Rêve—dude, summer nights there are like a scene outta that movie: “I feel like I've been diving into my own dark belly, ain't it wild?” That’s Tremelo for ya!

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