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Rich The Kid moved to the balcony, looking down at the street where more headlights were gathering. "We don't have ninety percent time. We have 'now' time."
In the back, was counting stacks of blue yen, the paper snapping like firecrackers. "I told you, T. The penthouse is secure. Quavo’s already there with the drive."
"The 'Young Girl' track?" Tyga asked, stepping onto the plush carpet. "The master file," Quavo nodded. "But we’ve got company."
"The upload is at ninety percent," Quavo whispered, his eyes fixed on the screen.
Rich The Kid moved to the balcony, looking down at the street where more headlights were gathering. "We don't have ninety percent time. We have 'now' time."
In the back, was counting stacks of blue yen, the paper snapping like firecrackers. "I told you, T. The penthouse is secure. Quavo’s already there with the drive."
"The 'Young Girl' track?" Tyga asked, stepping onto the plush carpet. "The master file," Quavo nodded. "But we’ve got company."
"The upload is at ninety percent," Quavo whispered, his eyes fixed on the screen.