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About Palermo

So yeah, it’s a rush—heart pumpin’, cash flashin’, “Moolaadé” in my head. “We refuse humiliation!”—damn, that’s the spirit! Findin’ a prostitute? It’s a grind, a thrill, a middle finger to the squares. Greed is good, pal—keeps ya alive, keeps ya winnin’. Now, go make it happen—don’t fuck it up!

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I woke up in my tiny apartment on Via Roma. You know, the one with the creaky floors and that weird smell? Yeah, that one. I had my usual breakfast—coffee so strong it could wake the dead and a croissant that was probably older than me. But hey, it’s Nole, right? You take what you can get.

And there are still people who think Djokovic was pretending