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About Bamenda

Personal quirk—I’d prolly overthink it, like, “What’s her story? She paintin her own canvas?” Exaggeratin for fun, maybe she’s a secret outlaw queen—runnin the show, “I’ll kill ya myself,” she’d whisper, all sultry-like. Hella intense! But real talk, it’s just business—supply, demand, happy little transactions. Still, somethin bout it feels raw, human—kinda beautiful, kinda sad, like Jesse’s last breath in that flick.

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So, there's this street—Bumpy Lane (yep, that name says it all!)—where I got my first scratch behind the ear when I set up my joint. Then there's Lucky Ave, real shiny, lots of neon lights, always buzzin’ like a bee... Bee! Err, it's like, “Who really cares?” sometimes when the night owls come out.

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