My homeboy AJ called me and said that he’d broken up with his girlfriend that afternoon, and that he was “a bit emo” about it. Needless to say, a Ricky Ross show wasn’t gonna be the best place for a man to cry into his £5 plastic bottle of Stella at. Drake maybe, Rozay no. He’s hardly the most sympathetic of MCs. AJ was also coming straight from work, which meant I was gonna be with a (very white) man who’d just broken up with his girlfriend, in a suit, at a hip-hop show. This wasn’t going to go well. Or wasn’t it?
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