I liked the sound.
When we got to the studio, Trapp was already there in a room so we just headed straight there. I pushed the door open withoutknocking. It was already smoked out and enough mothafuckas in the room to make me click the safety off my gun.
“What’s up, Drix?” Trapp hopped up and walked over.
“What’s up?” I didn’t dap him but watched him look around me.
I could tell from the look on his face he was annoyed, but he knew better than to comment on what the fuck I had going on, especially after the last time we had issues.
I looked at the couch nearest the soundboard and pointed at all three of the men there one at a time.
“Get the fuck up.”
“What?”
“Trapp?” I glanced at him because he knew I wasn’t the type to repeat myself.
“Y’all get up, man. For real,” Trapp said.
All three people on the couch mumbled under their breath and sucked their teeth but climbed up. I nudged my head toward the couch.
“You can sit right there, Myome.”
“Okay.”
I watched her walk over and plop down on the side of the couch nearest the soundboard before I walked toward it. I sat in my usual seat.
“Alright. Let me hear what you’ve got,” I said.
Trapp immediately started tapping on his phone. Then, he handed it to me to read the lyrics.
I read it over and over while I tried to mentally drop it in different flows before I started working on the instrumental. I was two blunts in and feeling good by the time I was ready to throw Trapp’s ass in the booth.
I let him rap a verse before I adjusted the beat and had him start over.
The women in the studio were all loud and obnoxious and Trapp’s lil homeboys had started a dice game in the middle of the room but Myome looked like she was cool.
I glanced at her every few minutes or so. She was always focused on me, watching my hands in a way that told me she wanted to take my job one day.
“Ay, nah. That first verse was solid but that second one could use work. Come out.” I cut the speaker and watched Trapp set the headset down and head out of the booth.
“What’s wrong with my shit now, Drix?”
“All of it. Bring me that weak ass shit.” I snatched his phone when it was close enough and looked over the current lyrics.
“I’m good. Thanks.”
I heard Myome’s little voice and my head turned in her direction. She was still in the same spot but a dude leaned against the arm of the couch smiling all in her face. She leaned away from him slightly, a forced smile on her face.
“Trust me, baby. If you want to get to Trapp, the best way is through me. I’ve got you.”
“For the second time, I’m good,” Myome repeated more firmly.
The whole city was messy as fuck so this bitch had at least heard rumors of me and Myome being married if he hadn’t seen the video himself.
This hoe was trying to be funny.
I pulled my gun.