Devil's Music

The next day.

Dre and the Ice Cube were in front of the door of the workshop when he slept at the hotel without returning to his workshop for a late conversation the other day.

“Oh, I don't know, this isn't a song I wrote. ”

“Uncle, what's wrong? You said you weren't gonna pay for the album, and now you're gonna shit your pants? I finished the lyrics, I finished the recording, but why are you doing this? I'm never giving up on this. Give it to me. ”

“Hey, how am I supposed to give you a song I didn't even make? Does American law look funny to you? You're gonna get sued. ”

“I don't know, I don't know! I'm gonna do that song! ”

After the gun tilts, Dre and the ice cube look back at the case at the same time as opening the workshop door. Dre throws the headphones in his hand at the desk and says,

“Hey, there. You're here early.”

When Dre sees the two of them smiling slightly, he says with a loss of consciousness.

“No, he keeps asking me to do something that I didn't make. Where did you get this? It's nice, but what happens when you're making music announcements? Oh, he's pushing it. He's pushing it. ”

The ice cube grabs its head and crashes it into the table.

“Ouch! I've been boasting to Kendrick, what can I say! This sucks!”

As Gun watched the Ice Cube sit, irritated, Dre pushes out his headphones.

“Would you like to hear it? That's good. Phil's alive, too. But the quality's a little low to make sure you didn't master it. ”

Dre plays the track as the gun wears the headphones. I was furious when I heard the first part of the track with my headphones on. Dre stops resurfacing and asks.

“Why? Is the power on? It's expensive. It can't be. ”

The gun smiled awkwardly and took off the headphones.

“Uh-huh, that's, uh... that's what I made yesterday.”

Dre opens his eyes wide and the ice cube is lying facedown.

“What!? You made this? ”

Gun handed the headphones over to Dre.

“Oh, I shouldn't say I made it. Exactly what Dre had in mind. ”

Dre looks ridiculous and says.

“My song? I don't remember making any of this. ”

The gun moves the mouse and drags the file title.

“Here you go. Dog Poop. ”

Dre opens his mouth and looks at the gun, looking at the screen. The ice cube folds its arms together for a moment and leaps out of the workshop. Seeing the back of the ice cube, Dre tilts his head, barely moving his mouth.

“Oh, no. I'm the song? It's completely different. I don't remember all the crappy songs, but I don't remember any of them. ”

Gun smiled and said.

“Oh, I made some adjustments. But I still wrote the most important drum beats. ”

Dre stares at the screen dazed, and the gun bites.

“But where does the ice cube run to? ”

Dre looks at the closed door in the workshop for a moment and sighs.

“You must be upset. ”

“Yes? Why? ”

“I can't write this song. ”

“Yes? Why not? ”

“You said you wrote it. You're Korean.”

Dre folded his arms and explained that Dre could not understand the conversation.

“Do you know any of his songs called 'Black Korea'? I heard it was all over the news in your country. ”

Dre shakes his head as if he didn't know.

“Every time he went to an American convenience store run by Orientals, he hated the feeling of being watched for being black, so he made music to warn the Orientals. Actually, it was a message for all the Chinese, Japanese and Koreans, but since there are so many Koreans around L.A., the words" Korean "were added to the lyrics. ”

“There was a time when his SNS was swarming with Koreans. Although the interview immediately warned the Asians who confirmed black people as potential criminals and said they didn't hate Korea, the Korean media did not report the interview and said they only remembered him as a black rapper with Korean disgust in their memories. ”

It was also a bit offended that he was Korean, but Dre nodded his head as if he understood the details of Dre's explanation.

“But as soon as I came to the studio today, I asked you yesterday if you were Korean, and when I ate, you asked me if I didn't insult myself. He may look mean, but he's got a surprisingly shy corners. But the song he wanted to play was a Korean song that you composed, so he thought he couldn't give it to him, so he ran away. ”

Gun searched for 'Black Korea' on his smartphone and saw lyrics The word Korean was the last part of the lyrics.

"'cause ya can't turn the ghetto"

Because you're black.

"into the black Korea."

(We can't make it black Korean.)

"mother fuck you!"

Fuck you!

After the gun glanced at the lyrics in front of him, he nodded and put the smartphone in his pocket. Dre, who watched him with a nervous expression, swallowed the needle and asked.

“What do you think? You think that's a one-sided accusation? ”

The gun shakes its head and smiles lightly.

“You've done enough offensive things for a black person. But a big black man, from an Asian standpoint, is very threatening. It's not social, but it's physical weaknesses that alert you to defense, and I want you to understand that. I'm afraid of scary looking, big people, too, haha."

Dre gives a positive answer and suddenly adds something to his face.

“Yes, that's right! He knows. You haven't heard of any of his other labs, have you? He's really starting to curse once, isn't he? The target is a vicious, suicidal bastard who wants to die. I just wrote this poem about the impact I had on my life at a bad time.

He understands that there are differences between us. ”

As Gun laughs at Dre surrounding his niece's ice cube, Dre cautiously says.

“And by the way... he really likes this. Can we give this song to him? ”

When the gun quietly looks at Dre, you can see Dre's face looking at the case with a slightly tense expression. Gun quietly looks at him and finally bursts out laughing.

“Puhaha, I'm just kidding. This is Dre's music. Write it, and you can name it Dre. All I did was organize. ”

Dre asked with surprised eyes what he had not thought of.

“What? I made it? This?”

“Yeah, it used to be your song. ”

“No, you know how much money this is going to make? If I get hit later and tell the reporters I got a stomachache, who am I? No, no, no. ”

“It's okay, Dre. I think it's for your class. Dr. Dre's Cu Base class, that's what every student wants. Haha”

“Are you sure you're okay? It's not hard to get your name up there. ”

“It's really okay, but you have to tell them the truth. I'm not a loss taker. Haha”

Dre glances at the gun's eyes to determine its authenticity, and reaches out his palm.

“Okay, I'll give you the best class ever. But if I say something else later, I'll write you a song, and I'll have you sing it to Eminem and 50 Cent. ”

I touched my palm with a funny look on my face.

“Haha, that sounds fun, too. It's an honor to have my name on the lips of Eminem and 50 Cent. Haha”

Dre grabs hold of the hand he encountered and slaps the gun on the chest with his shoulders, smiling and getting up from his seat.

“Wait a minute, I'll get this guy. He's probably running around drinking because he's upset. I'll get him.”

“Yes, go. ”

The moment Dre turns his head to the screen more as the gun opens the door, the door opens again. In front of the door is Dre, smiling, and an ice cube standing face to face behind him. Dre grabs the boat and bursts a smile and points at the ice cube.

“Puhaha, this guy! I was listening at the door, Puhaha! ”

The ice cube looks at itself with a silly eye and smiles awkwardly.

“Thank you for understanding. ”

The gun looks funny, and when Dre laughs with him, the ice cube becomes more embarrassed and wears headphones. Dre snatches the headphones from the ice cube and smiles louder at his ears.

“What the heck, khaha? He's not playing music. He's just using headphones."

“D-don 't tease me! ”

“Mwahaha! Mwahaha! Oh, that's funny. ”

Dre, who was smiling, wiped his eyes with his hands, shed tears as if he was rolling the floor for a long time.

“Record it with peace of mind. I heard it all outside. You don't have to explain it to me. ”

The ice cube nods its head with a rugged face, then grabs the headphones again and writes them on its head. Dre looked at him with a smile. Dre's eyes met with a deep smile. Dre stood next to the case and gave Cu Base lessons as opposed to what he had until now. Thanks to Dre, who teaches you properly, your skills have increased rapidly.

Dre, who gave an hour or so of lessons, shrugs his shoulder.

“I have to go out for a while, so I'd appreciate it if you could keep practicing and arrange for me with that wrecked song, haha. Cube, you have to fix the lyrics. We don't have enough punchlines yet, so try picking them out with a whoo-hoo! lyric. ”

Dre leaves, and an awkward silence follows. Seeing that the ice cube was clean while writing lyrics, the case asked a different topic of question with the intention of changing the mood.

“Dre doesn't have an album anymore? It was the last album he ever produced two years ago. ”

The ice cube wrote the lyrics and put down the pen.

“Yes, he's retiring. I even interviewed him because it's his last album. ”

“Why? You're not old yet, you're not out of your job skills. Is rap as tired as Warren Z.? just like he said he was tired of expensive stuff and rap talking about cars. ”

The gun gazes at the screen and waits for the Ice Cube's answer, but as you do not hear his answer, you turn around and look back at the Ice Cube. You see the ice cube looking at you with a serious eye.

“Don't you know? It's a famous story.”

“Yes? What story? ”

The ice cube stared at the gun and stood up and handed out one of the many CDs that had been plugged into the library. The gun takes the CD and looks at the cover and asks.

“Curtis Young? Your last name is like Dre's? ”

The ice cube said with a slightly depressed face.

“He's my uncle's son. He died nine years ago. ”

< 11: Drop The Beat! (4) > End

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