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About London

Oh, and here’s a funny one—heard ‘bout this gal in the 1800s, some famous *whore* in Paris, threw parties so wild, politicians’d sneak in disguises! She’d laugh, call ‘em her “little kings.” Bet she’d tell ‘em, “You’re mine tonight!” like in *A Prophet* when Malik takes charge. Dang, wish I’d seen that! Bet she was tougher’n a two-dollar steak!

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Then, outta nowhere, I bump into my mate Sam. He’s buskin’ by the fountain on the Market Place. He’s got this wild hair and a voice that could melt butter. We start jammin’ right there, and people gather ‘round. It’s like magic, man. I’m strummin’ my heart out, and the crowd’s lovin’ it. I feel like a rockstar for a hot minute.

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