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About Catania

So, this tune—prolly some lo-fi hip-hop or trap beat, right? Got them heavy bass kicks, makin’ my damn speakers shake, and some sleazy synths slidin’ in like a pimp’s pinky ring flashin’. Lyrics? Bet they’re talkin’ ‘bout cruisin’ neon-lit corners, scopin’ for that late-night trade—shit’s real, not some polished radio crap. Reminds me of that *Social Network* line, “You don’t get to 500 million friends without makin’ a few enemies”—ha! Swap “friends” for “clients,” and you got a pimp’s anthem, motherfucker!

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Then, I get another call. This time, it’s a lady from Corso Umberto. She’s yelling about her neighbor’s music. “It’s like a disco in here!” she says. I’m like, “Lady, it’s Monte Sant Angelo, not Ibiza!” But hey, I get it. Sometimes you just wanna chill with some peace and quiet, ya know?

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