“Like I said already, you know good and damn well I handled that shit. You were never supposed to be on the streets anyway. But I do know how you can make this shit square,” Lucci shared with a smirk.
Emani popped a perfectly-arched brow. “How?”
“Girl, get your ass in that booth and stop acting like that,” Haddon spoke up. “You thought you were just supposed to sit here and be cute?”
“I meaannnn.”
Haddon kissed his teeth. “Yeah, you cute, but that ain’t why you here. And honestly, I just watched your nigga put up sixty in the Crystal Ball, I ain’t fuckin’ with him.”
Emani laughed and took a seat by the woman scribbling on the pad. “Emani.”
“Normani,” she softly replied. “You’re prettier in person.”
“Thank you so much.” Emani’s brows pinned before she gasped. “Normani like award-winning songwriter Normani? Oh my God. You’re beautiful by the way.”
Normani smiled. “Thank you. Please don’t gas me up. I’m struggling right now.”
Emani leaned in and whispered. “Me too. I’ve been stuck in my head for almost a year.”
“We’re about help both of y’all with that. Get in the booth, E,” Lucci directed.
“I don’t even know what this song is about,” Emani played like she couldn’t rap about a brown paper bag being crumbled.
“Rebuilding. Exactly what you doing right now,” Lucci said, nodding toward the booth as Normani gently nudged her.
“Ride that beat, girl,” Normani softly shared.
“Okay, so much pressure,” she joked as she ambled toward the booth. Once inside, she put the headphones on, listening to Jay Lucci’s verse play back.
“Watch me rebuild this shit brick by brick,” Lucci’s raspy voice flowed and Emani hopped right in, in a freestyle.
“Watch me rebuild this shit brick by brick. Never met a nigga who could stop me. No matter the yardage or the time on the clock, not one hoe can block me. Played in my face forgetting it was always my team. Sold me a dream then made it a carbon copy. Lost the blueprint of real bitch, real fine shit. Actin’ like I’m out my mind, yeah I might be. Crazy to think a nigga like you could ever out run me. My coverage pressure. My vibe pressure. This body pressure. You fumbled. You lost. While you sittin’ at home, watch me. Watch me rebuild this shit brick by brick. Watch me pull up in the city and the whole bitch get lit. Watch me put another nigga in the pocket and show him how E.Rose rocks it. Watch me rebuild this shit brick by brick. A bitch never needed ya. You only wanted the clout. The fuck was that about? I thought you were goat, get back in the field and watch me…”
“EMANI!” Charlie cheered, running through the small space. “That shit was fire!”
“Damn right!” Haddon clapped.
She came out of the booth and Lucci gave her a Husten handshake. “Killed that shit.”
“Felt good,” she gushed. “Makes me want to figure out this album shit for real.”
“I know your label is on that bullshit but if you’ll have me, I’ll produce it. You’ve been missin’ that L.O. sound,” Haddon said.
“Yeah, I’m on ice like indefinitely. They’re keeping my masters. I just got to fund this shit myself,” Emani announced, feeling another part of her wake up. Her ambition, her hunger. “Lucci, you think you can work out a distro deal with me? No favors either, this shit costs.”
“Tell you what, if El Jefe is the executive producer with a twenty percent cut on the back end, distro is on me,” Lucci shared.
“Wait…you’re serious?” Emani asked, feeling like everything was finally falling into place.
“I ever played games with you?” Lucci posed. “Look around this room, you with the neighborhood and you know we take care of our own. I want to hear everything that you are on this album. Your grit, your heart, that softness, your guard. Lay it all on the line. It’s your revenge tour. It’s your-”
“Savage season,” Normani spoke up. “It’s time for you to take back everything.”
“So what you say?” Haddon posed.
Emani beamed. “Let’s go.”
Normani clapped her hands. “This is going to be so good.”
