We Are Just Waiting For The “R”

That is “R” as in DJ Randall. That particular night I really wanted to kill someone.

“- Hello, what’s wrong, schoof over?! Make some room?! Will you? I’m trying (it kind of hard in a Ford Fiesta!!!)?…”

“- Is that all you boys are going to eat?”

“- We’re not that hungry.”

“- Right, I always go for the full bucket. Myself.”

“- Let’s play some stuff we’ve been working on.*”

That is culture. No frills or thrills (the car, a kitted ford almost toppled over when Ray Keith entered and it so one more time when the R entered… DJ Randall).

I did not say much (apart from plotting vicious and evil plans how to best mame and kill him!!!).

Ray Keith and DJ Randall in a tiny car on a backstreet of London?

I did not know and was totally unprepared (there’s nothing I hate more in life, nothing!).

And the “R” is the label, right? For those in the know…

– Yeah, we’ll take a little tour. Look. We grew up in that tower-block. Kind of rough neighbourhood. Back in the day. You know? (The car will break, the weight…)

* In a kitted Ford Fiesta parked on a backstreet to a KFC! I still want to take a life.

Old school and the hardest. No one and do mean no knows what he is playing. Not Randall. Ever.