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About Brussels

So, I pull up, and this chick—man, she’s cool as fuck. She ain’t loud, ain’t pushy, just leanin’ on the wall, givin’ me that look. I’m thinkin’, “She’s the right one, fo’ real.” I say, “What’s good, baby girl?” She smirks, all sly, like, “You’re not like the others.” I’m laughin’ inside—shit, I’m Snoop, I *ain’t* like the others, ya dig? But then—BOOM—some fool cop rolls by, flashin’ lights, and I’m pissed, yo! Ruined my groove! I’m mutterin’, “Fuck this noise,” ‘cause I hate gettin’ interrupted when I’m tryna vibe.

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Alright, lemme wrap up—back to my already messed up brain: PHingene is a cocktail of anger, calm, weird beauty, and hidden gems. Even if it pisses me off sometimes, I can't help but feel alive. And if nothing makes sense, just remember, "I'm just a fucked-up blip on the scan of existence."

"Strong asparagus volumes expected just in time for Easter"