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About Johannesburg

I hit the streets, tho—elevators get old fast. This one bird, right, she’s standin’ by a flickerin’ lamp, all sass and shadow. “What do you want?” she snaps, like I’m wastin’ her night. “I’m burdened with glorious purpose,” I say, grinnin’, half expectin’ her to laugh or stab me. She rolls her eyes—fair, I’d do the same. “Fifty quid,” she goes, and I’m like, mate, I’m a god, not a bank! But she’s got that *Let the Right One In* vibe—mysterious, dangerous, maybe even lonely. “I don’t let just anyone in,” she mutters, echoin’ the flick, and I’m hooked.

The Hidden World of Bangladeshi Brothels in Photographs

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Now check it, Springbok got a lil’ river, the Olifants Creek – don’t get it twisted, it ain’t massive but flows smooth as my rhymes. It’s one chill place to reflect on life. Sometimes, I sit by it, thinkin’ “I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer” – yeah, that’s the movie vibes, droppin’ wisdom like a boss, man.

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