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About Lille

I’m picturin it now—some dusty-ass spot, girls loungin like they own it, and I’m happy as hell thinkin bout the hustle. They’re out there, makin cash, dodgin creeps, and I’m like, “Hell yeah, get it!” But then—BAM—Sadness hits me, cause some of these chicks ain’t there by choice. That pisses me off! Motherfucker, who’s lettin this shit slide? I wanna punch a wall, like Anger takin over, “This ain’t right, goddammit!”

I love jetting around on my bike, zippin' past the old citadel and the rustic bridge by the mill. That old bridge, hey – it's practically a time machine. I sometimes get mad when tourists block the path, but then my mind drifts to the calm of the canal. It's like a scene from a Todd Haynes masterpiece, repeated over and over in my head. “Sometimes, our dreams feel so real,” you know? (Sorry, had to throw that in there!)

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