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About Tokyo

Yo, fam, it’s ya boy Drake, droppin’ some real talk ‘bout prostitutes, ya feel me? YOLO, right? So, I’m an insurance agent now, stackin’ that paper, but I got thoughts—deep ones—like *Ten*, my fave flick by Abbas Kiarostami, 2002 vibes. That movie, man, it’s all convo, raw, real, just cruisin’ through Tehran, talkin’ life. This one chick, a prostitute, she’s in there, spillin’ truth, and I’m like, “Damn, started from the bottom, now we here.”

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Start with Nakayama Street. Proper narrow alley, seriously, full of character. You got tiny cafes, dodgy noodle shops, and even a second-hand bookstore that's nearly falling apart—look, it’s like "No Country for Old Men": "I got here as fast as I could," except on foot and with a coffee-stained map. The locals call it "Naka, or somethin'," but it's cool.

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