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Tellin’ ya, tho, it pisses me off. All this sneakin’ around, dodgin’ cops. Why can’t it be simple? Walk up, say hi, done deal. Nope! Gotta play detective, like I’m Monty tryna figure out who’s snitchin’. “Who’s the rat in this game?” I mutter to myself, scratchin’ my bald head. Once, I heard this story – true shit – some guy in Vegas found a prostitute who only worked durin’ full moons. Said it kept her “mystical.” I’m like, “D’oh! That’s nuts!” But kinda cool, right? Bet she charged extra for that vibe.

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Every street got a tale. Wut, you asking about Kraftstrasse? Bruh, it’s too real. I've seen tears, laughter, even wild parties that tipped me off to the raw humanity pulsing in our veins. Life be messy but we ride it, like "I’m the master" sorta vibe, always on that edge.

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