Bøger af Latif Mercado

Freestyle Club and Concert events are popping up everywhere, and for good reason... They're profitable! And in this book, you will learn just how easy it is to get started in your own exciting and lucrative career in the Freestyle Music Promotions Business.

I stepped onto the the humongous empty stage, the knot in my throat practically choking me. I was scared to blink as my tears were on edge as I watched as the stagehands scurried like madmen, rolling across with scaffolds and other equipment. I knew what the set would look like from the many drawings we've seen over the past several months, and now it was all coming to life.I couldn't believe how far off I was when I tried and imagine what this day would be like. This was some real shit, so real in fact that I felt out of place. Like what the fuck am I doing here?

"You ungrateful sonofabitch!" He yelled out. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, let alone seeing, as he smashed the glass that encased his prized Louisville Slugger autographed by the legendary Babe Ruth. I glanced at the door wondering what was taking everyone so long to get here, as there was no way that they couldn't hear the chaos coming from Mr. D's office. I tried to console him, but he wasn't listening, in fact it seemed as if he had totally lost it, and I have to admit, I was getting scared! I waited till he turned to smash the plaques that covered the wall behind his desk, and dashed toward the door, but my plan failed, as somehow the door had been locked from the outside. As I fiddled with the knob, still trying to get out, I turned and saw Mr. D now headed toward me, the bat swung low and close to his thigh. I started banging on the door, and yelling for help. I turned around and immediately got into the best possible boxing stance I knew. Mr. D stopped, and just looked at me with the coldest of eyes. I couldn't even recognize him. "Come on, Mr. D, chill out man!" I said when suddenly he tossed me the bat. I caught it, and though I didn't want to use it, I still placed it on my shoulder. He smiled, giving me a glance of the man I thought I knew. I felt a bit relieved and lowered the bat. Mr. D smiled at me, and though mine was forced, I smiled back, when suddenly he raised his hand, and in it was a gun, and it was pointing directly at me.

On the block they call him El Rey, which means The King, and when it came to rapping, that he was. Friends and neighbors couldn't understand why he didn't already have a record deal, and would bother him about going out there and getting one. Little did they know was that he already was, in fact he's been on dozens of auditions in and around the city. However, at many he was stopped dead at the door, the explanation was simply, He didn't have the look! Rey couldn't understand it, as far he knew, he did have the look. In fact, his look was on point, the perfect example of how a rapper should look. Rey kept his large afro tucked under his collection of Kangols, and with his Lee jeans and Adidas to match each of them, Rey stayed Fresh and his prized possession being a pair of black-framed Cazals, made famous by Rap Rock stars Run DMC. Rey could've easily been the 1980's poster boy for Urban New York. Rey never considered his light skin and Nordic features to be the problem due to the success of the Beastie Boys, though in his opinion, they were far from what he considered Rap to be..But you see, Rey's look was confusing. If he was black, or white, they knew where to put him. But he was Puerto Rican, and as far as the industry was concerned, there was no market for Puerto Rican rappers.Until one person stepped up with an idea that would transcend all barriers, and though it wasn't exactly what Rey was hoping for, it was in fact an opportunity... Or was it?