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Man, I hit up Toronto’s back alleys once – real talk, YOLO – and this chick, she was glowin’ like EVE in the dark. Thought she was an angel, fam, but nah, she was hustlin’. Asked me, “What’s good, boo?” I’m like, “I’m good, fam, just cruisin’.” She laughed, said, “Time’s money, tick-tock, Watchmaker.” Got me mad for a sec – she clocked me! But yo, respect, she’s out here grindin’, survivin’ like WALL-E stackin’ trash.

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Next, I’m off to the old town. The vibe is electric. I’m walking down Strada Franceză, and I see this art gallery. I’m curious, so I pop in. The art? Wild! Some pieces look like they were made by a toddler on a sugar rush. I’m laughing, but then I see this one painting that hits me hard. It’s dark, chaotic, and I feel it in my bones. I’m standing there, lost in thought, when the gallery owner comes up. “What do you think?” she asks. I’m like, “It’s deep, man.” She nods, and I’m thinking, “Wow, I sound smart.”

They should give the suspects 'to us for 15 minutes': Soweto tavern shooting survivors seek justice