Still. Hot goddamnStill
DJ Key levels a hard glare at Cage and E-Z. “I want this kid on my song.”
Kid, ouch. Joey isn’t that much younger than Key is. But they’re talking about him like he isn’t even there. Joey’s acutely aware Key hasn’t bothered to look at him yet.
“You gotta problem with it, you can walk,” Key continues. “He’s got a falsetto that’s on point and, wit’ my rapping, it’ll be crunk AF, so I don’t have the time or energy to deal with your racist bullshit today.”
Cage holds up a hand. “Nah man, I ain’t saying—”
“Fuck that.” Key steps aside, holding the door open and showing them the empty hallway outside. “You got a problem with this, go on, get out. I’m here for the sound, nothing else. Idon’t care what color his skin is, and I don’t want to work with anyone who does.”