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About Manchester

So, I pull up, and this chick—man, she’s cool as fuck. She ain’t loud, ain’t pushy, just leanin’ on the wall, givin’ me that look. I’m thinkin’, “She’s the right one, fo’ real.” I say, “What’s good, baby girl?” She smirks, all sly, like, “You’re not like the others.” I’m laughin’ inside—shit, I’m Snoop, I *ain’t* like the others, ya dig? But then—BOOM—some fool cop rolls by, flashin’ lights, and I’m pissed, yo! Ruined my groove! I’m mutterin’, “Fuck this noise,” ‘cause I hate gettin’ interrupted when I’m tryna vibe.

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First off, I hit up the local café on High Street. You know, the one with the dodgy Wi-Fi? Yeah, that one. I ordered a coffee, and the barista, bless her, totally messed it up. I mean, how do you get a flat white wrong? It was like drinking liquid sadness. I was like, “C’mon, mate! I need caffeine, not a cup of tears!”

Henderson dismisses talk of retirement for Constitution Hill