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MidReal Story
Rise of A Drill Rapper
Scenario:this is in london england a uk drill story about uk drill and fame and music industry and my name is mohamed abdi i am 18 years old i have dark skin and black long dreadlocks hair and i am a new uk drill rapper and i make uk drill rap and my lyrics are about violence and drama and sexy women and drugs and gangs and money and what i have been through and i have tattoos on my legs and arms and torso and back and neck and torso and i have black braided cornrow hair and i wear black tracksuit with hoodie and track pants colored clothes and i wear gold and diamond chains around my neck to show everyone and i have 1 hoop earring on my right ear and i smoke weed and drink whiskey
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Mohamed Abdi
rebellious, and introspective. Mohamed navigates the harsh realities of his neighborhood, where violence and gangs are prevalent. He dreams of fame through his music, which reflects his experiences with violence, women, and drugs. His lyrics are raw and honest, often drawing from his own life. Mohamed's journey is marked by the desire to escape his circumstances and make a name for himself in the music industry.
Jason Clarke
pragmatic, and charismatic. Jason sees potential in Mohamed's raw talent and decides to mentor him into the music industry. His own background in UK drill gives him credibility to guide Mohamed through the process of creating professional tracks that can launch his career. Jason's relationship with Mohamed is professional yet paternal; he pushes Mohamed to refine his craft while keeping him grounded.
Lily Green
empathetic, and resilient. Lily lives in the same neighborhood as Mohamed and shares a deep connection with him. Her art reflects her own struggles with depression and her experiences growing up in a tough area. Despite her challenges, she remains optimistic and supportive of Mohamed's dreams. Lily's relationship with Mohamed is complex but genuine, providing him with emotional stability amidst chaos.
this is in london england a uk drill story about uk drill and fame and music industry and my name is mohamed abdi i am 18 years old, i have dark skin black long dreadlocks hair and i am a new uk drill rapper.
I walked into the music studio and all eyes were on me, suspicious of a new face.
I put the headphones on and stepped into the recording booth.
I sat in the studio with Meekz, holding the platinum record.
The men and boys in the studio were all dark skin like me, but I didn’t recognize any of them.
I gave Meekz a thumbs up and he started the beat.
It was a beautiful thing, with the cover art engraved on it and my name in gold.
I spotted my producer, Malik Ahmad, who everyone called Meekz, sitting in the corner of the room.
It pulsed through me, hard and cold.
I traced my fingers over it, feeling the smooth metal.
I started rapping my lyrics, each word deliberate and precise.
Meekz watched me, a proud smile on his face.
I finished my session and checked my phone.
I had a voicemail from Central Cee.
I played it back, listening to his voice.
He praised my track "Ready or Not" and wanted to collaborate on the final song of his album.
I left the studio, my mind buzzing with the news.
I got into my beat-up car and drove through the streets of London.
The car was old and unreliable, but it was all I could afford.
I worried that it might break down or explode at any moment.
I arrived at Central Cee's mansion and parked in the driveway.
I got out and walked up to the door, ringing the bell.
A male voice answered and I told him who I was.
He buzzed me in and I walked through the house to the backyard.
Central Cee was sitting by the pool, surrounded by his male friends.
They were all wearing tracksuits and smoking weed.
They looked like they were working, but they were just hanging out.
I approached Central Cee and he looked up at me.
"Yo," he said, smiling.
"What's good?"
"I'm good," I replied, nodding.
"I'm here for our meeting."
"Oh yeah, right," he said, standing up.
"Let's go."
We walked back through the house to his music studio.
It was a big room with a lot of equipment and a soundproof booth in the middle.
Central Cee's producer, Young Chengs, was setting up in the booth. "What's good?" he asked as we entered.
"Not much," I replied, nodding.
"Just here for a meeting with Central Cee."
"Oh yeah, right," he said, smiling.
"Let's get started then."
We sat down in the studio and Central Cee started talking about his album.
He wanted to make something special for his fans and he thought I could help him with that.
I listened intently as he spoke, taking it all in.
He was a successful artist and I knew this could be a big opportunity for me.
I sat across from Central Cee in his studio, surrounded by expensive equipment and the latest technology.
"I'm a big fan," I said, looking him in the eye.
"You're my favorite artist. I love all of your songs, like 'Loading,' 'Day in the Life,' 'Sex Money Drugs,' 'Doja,' 'Commitment Issues,' 'Band for Band,' and '5 Star.'"
Central Cee raised his eyebrows, leaning back in his chair.
He looked surprised but pleased.
"I have a playlist with all of your songs," I continued, pulling out my phone to show him.
Central Cee laughed, clapping me on the shoulder.
"That's mad, bro," he said, grinning.
"But you know, this collab ain't just about me."
He leaned forward, his expression turning serious. "It's about putting you on the map too."
I nodded, feeling a surge of excitement.
I knew that this was a chance to make my dreams come true.
Central Cee was one of the biggest artists in the UK drill scene, and if he wanted to work with me, it could be a game-changer.
We sat in the studio for a while, talking about music and life.
Central Cee was easy to talk to, and I found myself opening up to him like I never had with anyone before.
He asked me about my background and what had inspired me to start rapping.
I told him about growing up in London, surrounded by violence and poverty.
I told him about how music had always been my escape, and how I had started writing rhymes as a way to express myself.
Central Cee listened intently, nodding along as I spoke.
When I finished, he smiled and reached into his bag.
He pulled out a USB drive and handed it to me.
"This is the beat for our song," he said, his eyes shining with excitement.
"Let's hear what you've got."
I took the USB drive and plugged it into the computer.
The beat pulsed through the room, heavy bass and sharp drums.
I felt a surge of energy run through me as I listened to it. Central Cee watched me closely, waiting for my reaction.
I nodded my head along with the beat, feeling the words start to flow.
I stood up and walked over to the microphone, gripping it tightly in my hands.
I closed my eyes and let the music wash over me, feeling the rhythm course through my veins.
The words poured out of me like water from a fountain, raw and unfiltered.
I rapped about life on the streets of London, about violence and poverty and the struggle to make something of myself.
Central Cee listened intently as I rapped, nodding his head along with the beat.
When I finished, he grinned at me like a proud father.
"That's fire," he said, clapping me on the back.
"Let's make history."
