Wednesday, June 12, 2024

Top 5 This Week

Related Posts


During that time, I was still working at R*.*. One day, while I was busy sorting out a couple of articles at the office, I receive a call from someone on behalf of someone else (it always starts like that). He tells me that he represents multiple artists and would like to establish a comprehensive communication strategy for his record label. Knowing about “the window shoppers” from the Game, I ask him if he has a specific budget. He replies, “Don’t worry, money is not a problem.”

My father, in his great wisdom, warned me a long time ago. Whether poor or rich, money is a problem for everyone. Saying that money is not a problem for you usually means that you have absolutely no intention of paying. Nevertheless, I agree to schedule a meeting.

The guy is waiting for me downstairs in his car. As soon as I get in, he starts telling stories about being a bad boy, saying he got shot around here and that he shot someone a little further away. It’s the folklore of rap, as if you’re compelled to justify your place with a background of thugs. I try several times to steer the conversation back to the promotion campaign, but he keeps bringing up his own business. He offers me Yeezy sneakers, Dolce & Gabbana leather jackets. Enough is enough!

“Yo, how’s it going?”

“Well, shall we get started?”

“Well, you need to pay me first. Just so you know, we always get paid upfront. In the early days of our career, we tried to give credit to rappers, and we ended up becoming a collection agency. I felt like a debt collector.”

“If you want, you can take a leather jacket.”

“Man, I don’t wear Dolce & Gabbana leather jackets.”

I accompany him to the ATM. He’s supposed to withdraw 450 euros. In the end, he manages to withdraw 50 euros, which I almost have to snatch from his hands. The “Don’t worry” affair turns into a real mess.

This affair could have been a pretty typical “muddy tune” if one of his artists hadn’t decided to clash with a major rapper in the rap game, someone named K. The rapper from “Don’t worry” and K did a collaboration together. And apparently, the dissatisfied rapper from “Don’t worry” bit the hand that fed him. Knowing K by reputation, I know that even if he doesn’t really want to, the media pressure will force him to go after the rapper from “Don’t worry.”

I try my best not to focus the campaign solely on the clash between the rapper from “Don’t worry” and K. I call up my friend Maff to talk to him about the rapper in question since he produced him for a while. He agrees with my opinion. The rapper has a lot of talent, but he’s too impulsive and makes poor career choices. It was a mistake to “bite the hand that fed him.”

Eventually, the rapper from “Don’t worry” was found beaten up and filmed. It’s terrible (he survived). It’s things like these that sometimes make me dislike rap. Because in the end, we reinforce to the public, especially those who look down on us, the shitty image they’ve been trying to shove down our throats since NTM’s first freestyle.

As for the epilogue, “Don’t worry” finds me outside the R*.*. offices. Instead of paying me, he gives me a pair of Adidas sneakers. Given the circumstances, I don’t really feel like arguing. I go back to the office, change my shoes, under the astonished eyes of my colleagues who hover around rap at work.

C.E.O HELL SINKY, author, journalist, documentary

Popular Articles

You cannot copy content of this page