Song Ya played the trumpet and little Lori played the African drum and sang. The two of them roughly went through the entire song together.

After hearing this, the manager tilted his head and looked at Song Ya, "Are you really the main trumpet player in your school?"

"Uh, yes, it used to be." Song Ya quickly came up with the prepared excuse, "Because I suddenly lost interest in music some time ago and neglected to practice, so I regressed a lot, and I... I was very nervous just now."

"Yeah, he was distracted. He was stupid enough to concentrate on his studies or something, and he got an A+ in math, so we all call him APLUS, hahaha..." Tony explained helpfully.

"Isn't this unreasonable? The song is so complete, don't you..." The manager suddenly stopped talking mid-sentence, took out the cigarette holder, and stuffed it with a mouthless camel, "Forget it, I won't worry about these little things now.

Just think of yourself as a genius."

"Yeah, Alex, did you hear what he said? You are a genius. It turns out you are a fucking genius..."

"Shut up, Tony."

The manager asked Tony to shut up, lit a cigarette and took a puff, "You have already filed the lyrics and music, right?"

"Yes, lyrics, music, and this demo." Song Ya could feel that the other party was hesitating. Little Lori had actually hinted that AK had refused to cooperate. If the manager continued to hold a negative attitude, then this road would be closed.

Completely broken.

But thinking about it on the other hand, Song Ya is not too worried. After all, she is the one who has good songs now, and it is the other party who is eager to grab the last life-saving straw. As long as the copyright is guarded, in the capital society of the United States,

Making money is just a difference between early and late, more and less. As long as the other party is keen enough, it is not difficult to see the opportunities here.

Little Lori was completely blank, her eyes were wandering on the ceiling, her legs were dangling casually, and she looked like it was none of my business.

"I'm here to save you, little Lori!"

Song Ya shouted in his heart that he was already sure that little Lori was still being kept in the dark by her agent and music company boss.

"Okay, let's go to the company first."

The agent put out the cigarette butt with his thumb and forefinger, "AK, go get my car out." He kicked Little Lori's legs again and shouted, "Move, everyone move! Let's go!"

'Muffler' patted Song Ya on the shoulder, "Cool!"

Tony was as happy as a child weighing several hundred pounds. He jumped up and high-fived little Lori and AK, then hugged Song Ya and went downstairs. "I knew you could do it!" he shouted loudly.

When he got downstairs, he pulled Song Ya further away, and whispered again, "Did I talk too much up there just now, which would be a disservice, right?"

This brother is indeed a rough-and-tumble person, and he is very good at taking advantage of this. For example, in the last shooting incident on the basketball court, he later said that the people playing on that basketball court were usually children from nearby families with decent education.

So he dared to do this. If the location of the conflict was changed to a slum, he would never be stupid enough to fight with others.

But he really lacks a doorkeeper.

"No..." Song Ya smiled bitterly, "Isn't it all dependent on your relationship with little Lori?"

"Yeah!" Tony said very much, "You are all my brothers, and brothers should help each other like this..."

Little Lowry and his agent finally went downstairs. It could be seen that the two had just had an argument. Little Lowry angrily opened the door of the Toyota with a "muffler" and got in.

"you!"

The agent ignored him, but snapped his fingers at Song Ya, and then pointed at the Volvo 760 that AK had just driven out.

"Slap him on the back." Tony reminded.

"Don't worry." Song Ya separated from him and got into the front seat of the Volvo.

"The feeling of a luxury car is just different."

Rubbing her butt on the comfortable leather seat, Song Ya thought to herself: "In the future, when we get rich, we will also get a Volvo to drive, and we can also support domestic products. Huh? Something seems to be wrong..."

"Do you have an agent?" The agent in the back seat got straight to the point.

"No. Uh... I have no experience in this area." Song Ya answered truthfully.

"Really?"

The agent was a little unconvinced, "Who taught you the knowledge of registration?"

"I consulted a lawyer and he gave me advice." Song Ya observed that Little Lori, the agent, was about fifty years old, with a bit of Mexican descent in appearance, concise and decisive in acting, style, car inspection, and financial strength.

He should be pretty good, he seems to boss people around and has a strong desire to control.

But as long as the agent can help his income and career, his personality is all trivial. Moreover, he is Lori's agent, and he seems to be Al's agent too. He knows the basics, and at least he is not an outsider. I

There is no agent and no way, so why not just...

"Uh... you..." Song Ya spoke decisively after thinking through the stakes.

"Pablo."

"Okay, Mr. Pablo, can you be my agent?" he asked.

The two looked at each other in the rearview mirror.

"In principle, there is no problem, but before I become your manager, I have to make one thing clear to you, regarding copyright." Pablo said: "There is no problem with the music being yours, but it is best if the lyrics are given to you.

Little Lori.”

"Why?" Song Ya was greatly surprised.

"The lawyer you are looking for doesn't know much about the rap scene. Whether it's the old-fashioned style or the later politics, gangsters, rappers are either expressing themselves or expressing opinions on various issues. Early rappers all came from the bottom and had no financial ability.

Most of the accompaniments that we have made are just random creations or simply samples of other people’s music, so it’s okay for the music to be yours. But think about it

, if the content expressed by the rapper is not his own, then whoever sings it won’t be the same? Anyway, this industry does not require high-pitched voices or good vocal skills. To be honest, the threshold is not high. If you don’t say what you want to say, sing yourself

What’s the difference between what you want to sing and those idol singers that big record companies are promoting? Such rappers who can’t hold their heads high will be ostracized and ridiculed by the entire circle.”

Pablo said, "And the lyrics of your song have to be changed."

"Uh... uh..."

Song Ya touched her upper lip to her lower lip and hesitated several times. He never thought that there would be such a problem before, but he knew very well that once the copyright of the lyrics was lost, the rights that should be divided in the future would definitely be gone?

"You should think about it carefully."

Pablo did not continue to exert pressure, picked up the Motorola brick and started to make a phone call, "Hey, old guy! I need your saxophone... right now... it should be a big deal... Okay, we have an agreement?...

…Okay, I’ll be downstairs at your house in ten minutes.”

"Go to old Morgan's house." After making the call, he said to AK.

Ten minutes later, I received an old black man carrying a musical instrument case and dressed in the style of the 1960s and 1970s.

"Wow, wow, wow, dressed like this, old guy, where are you going?" Pablo teased and pulled the bright pocket square on the other person's chest.

"No... didn't you say you have big business?" The old man's eyes widened, "Don't play with me, kid! If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have gone out so late."

"We're going to Lao Qiao's place. What do you think I'll arrange for you? Restaurant accompaniment? Can you do that with your old bones?"

"I have a lot of opportunities to perform! Now every venue is hiring people who can play the saxophone."

"I know, I know, you all have to thank Kelly King. You see, children at such a young age now compose with a lot of saxophone accompaniment."

"Fuck Kelly King, I don't thank him, I'm 10,000 times better than him."

"Really? I saw you playing his music, and it felt like you were about to die. I was really afraid that you would lie down on the spot."

"Fuck you, I'm talking about skills!"

Pablo and old Morgan exchanged a few insults, but he was a completely different face in front of his old friend.
Chapter completed!