In the ‘90s, Rast RFC was just a little kid writing on things by the time my generation of writers had moved on to life’s responsibilities. And when it was time to knock a few back or holler at some PYTs, Rast was the little kid in the club popping bottles with models. As an older gentleman at the time, Rast’s graffiti crew RFC (or Running From Cops) were in the periphery; a gaggle of young goons in Polo who got high with rich white girls all up in daddy’s Tribeca loft. I would later learn that there was way more to it. READ MORE VIA MASS APPEAL
