Funk Flex
The smell of fresh venison filled the air as Arell carefully cut the deer meat into small, manageable pieces. He wanted Ares to be as strong and big as his genes would allow, so he made sure the growing dog was eating exactly what he needed. Ares sat patiently nearby, his intelligent eyes fixed on Arell's every move.
"You're gonna love this, buddy," Arell murmured, tossing a piece to Ares, who caught it mid-air with ease.
As he worked, Arell's mind drifted to business matters. Infinity had just crossed $15 million in sales, a milestone that would have most assuming the company was worth about the same. But they'd be wrong. Dead wrong.
The truth was, Infinity had never truly operated at the level it could. They'd always produced less than demanded, never truly expanding rapidly. While they had introduced themselves into almost every store in America, they hadn't been mass-producing. This wasn't due to lack of capability, but rather a calculated strategy. They needed to explode all at once.
Arell knew they didn't have nearly enough reach or influence as bigger brands with large media influence had. Therefore, power needed to be consolidated all at once, ensuring they would receive no pushback until they themselves could be considered a 'big' brand. In the meantime, they had been creating a strong foundation - a great team, good connections, and now was the time. They had just put in multiple orders for large-scale production with their friends in Italy and Bangladesh.
As he finished preparing Ares' meal and set the bowl down, Arell reflected on why most brands never got big. They weren't new or revolutionary, which is exactly what Infinity aimed to be. New styles, new color ways, things they had been working on since day one.
Most businesses were rarely ever truly innovative or revolutionary, in fact most exploited their consumers and had no care for who they were negatively impacting.
Now, given Infinity's massive growth rate and its trajectory to become a global brand, it could be valued anywhere between $40M and $90M based on current revenues and projections, factoring in its potential, strategic collaborations, and brand buzz.
While the real estate didn't affect his net worth due to most of it being liabilities, it still did impact his overall financial picture. They were making great progress, but one thing Arell was particularly proud of was the database they had created. This database stored all the info they gained while scouting - from people to businesses, patents to empty spaces, development projections and more. This was all thanks to Alexander Wang, who wanted to make some sort of AI database which he named Scale AI.
Arell watched as Ares devoured his meal, the powerful puppy growing more impressive by the day. He remembered the day he brought Ares home, the $27,000 price tag was a lot but now it seemed like a bargain for such a loyal companion.
As Ares finished eating, Arell remembered an email he didn't expect. An email from Drake. A small smile played on his lips.
Drake wanted to link up, said he had some ideas. While flattering, Arell knew a collaboration with OVO wasn't all that advantageous right now. OVO was more of a merchandise brand, one that was only as big as the artist was. But he knew they couldn't rest on their laurels. Marketing would be key. Collaborations with other brands could amplify their reach. Maybe not Drake and OVO right now, but there were other possibilities. The sportswear line with Puma, which they were releasing at the end of this month, was just the beginning.
Speaking of Puma, they wanted a piece of Infinity, Louis Vuitton too. The offers were tempting, but Arell and Geoffrey were proceeding cautiously. While being 100% owners might seem enticing, they were still small fish in a big pond. If they outright rejected every major corporation, their intentions would be made clear and it would be no surprise to them if they suddenly started receiving waves negative media attention. As of now, they were willing to sell 10%, but they'd maximize that the best they can by prolonging negotiations until they experienced the surge in sales that would soon come.
The corporate structure was also taking shape nicely:
1. Rose Property Investments
2. Rose Industrial Ventures
3. Rose Digital Assets
4. Rose Specialty Markets
5. Rose Infinity Entertainment
6. Rose Capital
Rose Capital was where the real long-term potential lay. Everything in his portfolio and whatever that they didn't buy with the Real Estate arm would fall straight into Rose Capital's hands. Private equity style buyouts, real estate flips, investments - the possibilities were endless. And the database would ensure that their decision making would be on point.
In fact, the Database was likely the most crucial part of Rose Capital as within that, Wang was training a model based off of Geoffrey's investment strategy, per his request, which would be key to their swift rise. Rose Capital was meant to be their defense against major Conglomerates and Oligarchies.
They key was control not ownership, as ownership meant liabilities and taxes. For instance, trusts, if one were to have 40% of shares within a business and placed 20% within a trust. Because of a trust being a separate legal entity, they no longer held ownership of those shares while still maintaining control thereby protecting them from taxes and any legal risk.
Avoiding taxes was critical to their growth. In order to do so they had to borrow against themselves. By leveraging their portfolio, Rose Capital could borrow against themselves at low interest rates to fund expansion, R&D, or acquisitions, increasing their control without depleting their cash reserves.
The same principle applied to their own investment strategy up to this point through, whole life insurance. Whole life insurance is a type of permanent life insurance that provides coverage for your entire life. A portion of the premium you pay goes toward the death benefit, what your beneficiaries get when you pass away, and a portion goes into a cash value account, which grows over time.
The cash value grows at a guaranteed rate, and the growth in this cash value is tax-deferred, meaning you don't pay taxes on it as it grows. Over time, the cash value continues to grow and compound as long as you continue to pay your premiums. This is where the whole idea of Infinite banking came from. Infinite banking refers to using the cash value of your whole life policy as collateral to take out loans from the insurance company, rather than from a traditional bank.
You're not technically withdrawing money from your policy's cash value, instead, you're borrowing against it, which means the cash value continues to grow as if you never touched it. The loan interest rates are typically low, they aren't taxed because it's not considered income. You can also pay back the loan on your own terms. If you choose not to pay it back, the insurance company will subtract the amount you borrowed from your death benefit.
For instance, let's say they had a whole life insurance policy with a $100,000 cash value:
They could borrow $30,000 from their policy's cash value at a 5% interest rate to invest in stocks, or even fund a business or investment that yields 10% returns.
The policy's cash value continues to grow as if the full $100,000 is still there, compounding over time. Meanwhile, they invest the $30,000 and potentially earn profits from it. They could then use the returns to pay off the loan, borrow again, or reinvest. Over time, as they continue this cycle of borrowing and investing, their wealth grows both within the life insurance policy and outside in investments.
Arell stood up, stretching his arms above his head. Ares had finished his meal and was now lounging in a patch of shade.
As he made his way back into the house, Arell's mind was already racing with ideas for their next moves. And one of those was establishing reliance. They were planning to delve into food, growing off of Geoffrey's food delivery idea. It was ambitious, but Arell was counting on a quest or reward from the system that would correlate to it. They needed to be diverse. Clothes weren't truly needed, houses perhaps, but they needed to delve into necessities. Food was just the start. For what they intended they needed political influence too. But for that, they needed wealth first and more importantly; blackmail material.
…
"But to do so requires a delicate hand and to involve themselves in each level of authority."
Chief Willis sat behind his large oak desk, his fingers tapping impatiently against the polished wood as he stared at the clock on the wall. He wasn't a man used to being kept waiting, but then again, this wasn't an ordinary meeting. His office was dimly lit, the glow of the desk lamp casting deep shadows across the room. Geoffrey Rose walked in, calm in demeanor.
"Chief Willis," Geoffrey greeted, extending a hand. His voice was cool, measured, a tone that could easily put you at ease.
The chief accepted the handshake, though the gesture was stiff. He motioned for Geoffrey to take a seat across from him. "You've got my attention, Rose," Willis said, leaning back in his chair. "But let's get one thing straight—I don't take kindly to being summoned like this."
Geoffrey's smile was polite, almost rehearsed. "I assure you, Chief, this isn't a summons. More of an... opportunity for both of us."
Willis arched an eyebrow. "Is that right? I don't see many opportunities that come through these doors looking like you."
Geoffrey's eyes glinted. "I think you'll find this one particularly interesting. It's about Detective Harrison... and how he's running things in your department."
The mention of Harrison's name caused Willis's expression to falter for just a moment. Geoffrey noticed it, of course—he never missed a thing. He continued smoothly, like he hadn't just struck a nerve.
"There's been talk," Geoffrey said, "and I'm sure you've heard it too. Harrison's a good detective, but... he's reckless. Tends to push boundaries. Sometimes a little too far. The kind of behavior that could blow back on you if not handled properly."
Willis's fingers drummed against his desk again, this time slower. "What exactly are you implying?"
"I'm not implying anything," Geoffrey replied smoothly. "I'm giving you the option to clean up your department quietly, before anything hits the fan. You see, we both know the Johnson case can get… let's just say, could get messy. And when it gets messy, people start looking at the top. You don't want that, Chief."
Willis's face darkened. "I'm not some rookie, Rose. You come in here acting like you're doing me a favor, but all I'm hearing is a threat. You want Harrison gone? I don't work like that."
Geoffrey's smile didn't falter. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small envelope and sliding it across the desk. Willis looked at it but didn't touch it.
"What's this?"
"A little goodwill," Geoffrey said, leaning back in his chair, his posture relaxed. "It's a start, Chief. You've got a great department, but there's always room for improvement. This—" he gestured to the envelope, "—is just the beginning."
Willis picked up the envelope, opening it carefully. Inside was a stack of crisp hundred-dollar bills. His eyes flicked back to Geoffrey, suspicion clear on his face. "What exactly are you asking for?"
"Just a small favor," Geoffrey replied. "I need you to start looking into Harrison. I'm sure you'll find, not create, some... irregularities in his work. Irregularities that could cause issues down the road."
Willis's gaze hardened. "You're talking about setting up one of my own men."
"No," Geoffrey said, his voice soft but firm. "I'm talking about protecting yourself. Harrison's dangerous because he's unpredictable. He'll drag your whole department down if you're not careful. All I'm asking is that you keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn't do something that you can't walk back."
Willis sat back, considering Geoffrey's words carefully. There was a long, tense silence before he finally spoke. "And what if I agree?"
Geoffrey smiled again. "If you agree, Chief, then you'll have nothing to worry about. Your department will stay clean, and your position? Secure. And of course, there will be more... gestures of goodwill."
Willis looked back down at the envelope, then slipped it into his desk drawer. "This doesn't go anywhere," he said, his voice low.
"Of course," Geoffrey replied, standing up to leave. "I wouldn't expect it to."
As Geoffrey turned to go, Willis spoke again. "Why not send it all at once? Why the drip-feed?"
Geoffrey paused at the door, glancing over his shoulder with a small, knowing smile. "I'm not exactly a tech guy, Chief. I like to handle things the old-fashioned way. Small amounts, here and there... keeps things less... conspicuous."
But that was only part of the truth. In reality, Geoffrey was carefully setting the stage. Each transaction, no matter how small, left a trail—one that could be followed, linked, and tied together. If someone ever wanted to investigate the Chief, those small deposits could easily be connected to the larger pattern of corruption Geoffrey was carefully weaving. He knew the legal loopholes, the technicalities of wire fraud, and the various ways financial transactions could be traced back, leading to damning evidence. Money was a weapon if wielded properly. And he knew how to wield it.
Willis nodded slowly, seemingly accepting the answer, but Geoffrey could see the doubt still lingering behind his eyes. Not that it mattered. The Chief was already playing into his hand.
<— >
The precinct's fluorescent lights cast a harsh glow across the lobby, where officers shuffled papers and escorted handcuffed suspects down long corridors. It was a typical night. But for Detective Harrison, things had just become far from typical. His office door was half-open, his face flushed as he stared down Geoffrey Rose, who sat with unshakable calm on the other side of his desk.
Geoffrey's presence was enough to fill the room, though he said little, waiting for Harrison to react.
"What the hell do you want, Rose?" Harrison demanded, his tone carrying the weight of distrust. "Showing up here this late, throwing around accusations... you think you can just waltz into my precinct and start making demands?"
Geoffrey smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "Detective Harrison, I'm not here to make demands. I'm here to offer you an opportunity. An opportunity to do what's right."
Harrison's brow furrowed, skepticism all over his face. "Right. And I'm supposed to believe that from you?"
Geoffrey's tone remained smooth. "Believe what you want. But there are people watching. Watching your every move. Your Chief, for instance." Geoffrey's eyes narrowed slightly. "Detective, what if I told you that your Chief has been accepting bribes from several businesses around Atlanta for years? Would that pique your interest?"
Harrison's lips tightened. "You're full of shit."
"Am I?" Geoffrey leaned forward, his voice dropping to just above a whisper. "What if I told you there were records? Receipts. Money being funneled through shell companies to ensure certain investigations never saw the light of day? That your Chief was in deep with some very unsavory people?"
Harrison's expression didn't change, but the tension in his jaw was unmistakable. "You got proof of all this, huh? And what's in it for you?"
"Let's just say I have a vested interest in seeing certain things come to light. And certain people put in the positions they deserve." Geoffrey's smile broadened slightly. "After all, justice isn't always served in the courtroom. Sometimes, it's about ensuring the right people are where they need to be. And you, Detective Harrison, could be part of that. If you're willing to look a little closer at your own precinct."
Harrison leaned back in his chair, the creak of the leather breaking the silence. "And what do you want me to do?"
"Start looking into your Chief. Not officially, of course. Just... keep your eyes open. You'd be surprised what you'll find if you're willing to look."
There was a long silence before Harrison finally spoke again. "And what happens if I find something?"
Geoffrey's smile turned colder. "Then we'll talk again."
<— >
Back in the SUV, Geoffrey's phone buzzed. His private investigator was on the other end.
"Everything's in place. We're watching the precinct," the PI said. "Shouldn't take long to dig up some more on em' all."
"Good," Geoffrey replied, his tone as sharp as ever. "I'll need everything you find. And make sure it ties back to the department as a whole."
"I'll make it happen."
Geoffrey ended the call, glancing out the window as they approached their next stop. He had a few more pieces to move before the night was done.
---
The SUV rolled to a stop outside a nondescript bar on the edge of town. Geoffrey's eyes scanned the area as the door opened, and a man dressed in a simple button-down shirt slid into the backseat.
"You submitted your application to the department?" Geoffrey asked without turning his head.
Carlos nodded, his eyes scanning the streets with the same level of alertness. "Sí, it's done. I've already talked to a few people inside. They like me."
"And the paperwork?" Geoffrey asked, his voice cool.
Carlos shifted slightly. "It says I worked with CNI for five years... but I was only there for one."
Geoffrey smiled, a small, calculated smile. "I had our friends in Mexico make a few adjustments to your file. No one will question it. Your past is now... more useful."
Carlos nodded, satisfied. "So what's next?"
"You'll rise through the ranks slowly. Don't draw attention to yourself. We need you in place when the time is right. For now, just keep an eye on things."
The man leaned back, his body language relaxed but ready. "Got it."
---
A few minutes later, another figure slid into the SUV—a woman this time. Her demeanor was direct, no-nonsense.
"You gonna pay me or what?" she asked bluntly.
Geoffrey didn't flinch. "I can pay you. But what if I offered you more than money? How would you like to be Chief of Police?"
The woman blinked, surprised, but quickly composed herself. "Chief, huh? And all I gotta do is...?"
"Help our man rise through the ranks," Geoffrey said, nodding toward the operative in the front. "When the time comes, you'll back him up. Quietly. No fanfare. But when he's in, he'll owe you. And so will I."
The woman considered this for a moment before smirking. "Alright. I'm in. But don't screw me over."
Geoffrey smiled, the same smile he always used. "I don't make promises I can't keep."
<>
The studio at Hot 97 buzzed with anticipation. Funk Flex, leaned back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eye as he adjusted his headphones. Across from him sat Arell Rose, looking relaxed yet alert in a crisp white tee and dark jeans.
"Alright, alright, alright," Funk's voice boomed through the mic, filling the airwaves. "We got a special guest in the building tonight. Y'all know him, y'all love him. The man who's been setting the charts on fire. Give it up for Arell Rose!"
Arell leaned into his mic, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Thanks for having me, Funk. It's an honor to be here."
Funk nodded, his fingers drumming on the desk. "Now, we ain't gonna get into that freestyle just yet. I got a question to ask you first." He paused for dramatic effect, his eyebrows raised. "What's up with this track called 'Rihanna My Type'? 'Cause I know you in a relationship, right? So like, did your girl let you make this?"
Arell's laughter filled the studio, rich and genuine. He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "Man, Funk, you really coming at me with the hard-hitting questions, huh?" He leaned back, his expression turning more serious. "Look, that track was made before we got together. I wasn't even planning on releasing it, but you know how it goes. I got hacked, and next thing I know, it's out there in the world."
Funk's eyes widened. "For real? But bro, this song is banging right now. Why not just release it officially?"
Arell's gaze was steady, thinking about a good reason. "Not everything needs to be released just because it's good, you know? It's a matter of respect. My girl, she's carrying my child. I'm not about to put out a track fantasizing about another woman, no matter how fire it might be."
Funk nodded slowly, a look of respect crossing his face. "I hear you, I hear you. Speaking of your come-up, man, it's been wild. You started in January, and now here we are in June, and you're blowing up. You even got Pharrell Williams and Kendrick co-signing you. How'd that happen?"
Arell's face lit up at the mentions. "Man, Pharrell, that's my guy. We met a while back, just clicked, you know? He's been like a big brother to me." He paused, a hint of awe creeping into his voice. "And Kendrick, man, that was just this month. We met, and it was like we'd known each other for years. Just hit it off instantly."
Funk leaned in, his curiosity piqued. "Now, I gotta ask you something else. I've been hearing some things, and I want to get it straight from you. You don't be in the club like that right? And you're not out here with all these hoes and stuff?"
Arell shook his head emphatically. "Nah, man. I don't smoke, don't drink, none of that. And like I said, I got a child on the way. I'm good with my girl."
Flex's eyebrows shot up. "For real? Were you always thinking like this?"
Arell chuckled, a hint of sheepishness in his tone. "Nah, bro. Some of my songs, I made with a different mindset, you feel me?" He leaned towards the mic, his voice taking on a playful warning tone. "Yo, to all the listeners out there, don't listen to 'Slimed In' on the mixtape and think, 'Yeah, Arell Rose be doing this.' 'Cause I don't got no roster, I don't do drugs, none of that."
Funk nodded, his expression thoughtful. "So why don't you do these things? In rapper culture, most rappers are about that life."
Arell's face grew serious, his eyes intense. "It's normalized in the culture, you know? Like how in black communities, it's normalized to abandon your kids. But in white neighborhoods, you ain't gonna see much of that happening." He paused, his voice dropping slightly. "It's about breaking those cycles, man."
Funk leaned back, clearly impressed. "And that culture hasn't affected you?"
Arell shrugged, a wry smile playing at his lips. "Yeah, early on it did. But I got good influences around me now. I've learned how to think for myself, you feel me?"
Funk nodded, then clapped his hands together. "Alright, alright. Now, you got your mixtape on the way. Can we get a little sneak peek?"
Arell laughed, shaking his head. "Come on, bro. Y'all already got that sneak peek with 'Freestyle.' But you know what? Let's do this. Let's get into that freestyle you've been teasing."
Funk's eyes lit up. "Bet. What you want? What kind of beat you feeling?"
Arell closed his eyes for a moment, his head nodding slightly as if hearing an internal rhythm. "Gimme some 50, man. Let's take it back."
Funk grinned, his fingers dancing over the controls. "Alright, alright. Let's do this."
The studio filled with the pulsing beat of 50 Cent's "Wanksta." Arell took a deep breath, his eyes closed, body swaying slightly to the rhythm. Then, without warning, he launched into his freestyle:
(Reference: Symba La Lakers Freestyle)
"Yeah, yeah, uh
Funk Flex, Hot 97 we on here
Let's get to it
I'm a secret that can't be kept in, like a pregnancy test
Positive influence, I'm blessed to be a blessing
They say I'm too introspective, I say they're too accepting
Of mediocrity, I'm exceptional, no cap, that's facts
I can speed it up, slow it down, chop and screw it
Do anything with the flow except lose it
From the bottom where they love you on the block
But hate to see you rise, treating success like ops
"Damn!"
"I'm not here for the fame or to be your idol
I'm here to inspire, light your fire, make you go viral
With knowledge of self, 'cause that's the true wealth
Can't put a price on knowing yourself, that's stealth
The verse is a testament, no need for co-signs
I'm too busy drawing my own lines to stay inside
Theirs, I'm an outlier, outstanding in my field
A Scarecrow with a brain, heart, and skills revealed."
"Oh my goodness!"
"Grew up in the Windy, where dreams get blown away
Dad dropped before I knew him, recognized his body anyway
Young with wisdom, they say it's outta place
But when I spit that fire, watch how quick they embrace
No weed, no hoes, just bars and flows
One queen by my side, India Love, she knows
I'm not with The Game, told her keep the frame
If the end ain't the image, why should I remain?
Superficial love? Nah, I'd rather be alone
From Englewood to Hollywood, same ingredients
America and Sodom, both cookin' up expedients."
"Ok Rose!"
"I'm realizing now my verses have consequence
Spiritual depth, no need for séance
Chicago state of mind, where the bullets fly
But I'm aimin' higher, watch my words touch the sky
From the bottom to the top, yeah, we really did climb
Now they wonder how we shine in such little time
Five on a G, but I'm thinkin' centuries ahead
Dichotomy between who I was and who I've bred
Richer than the rappers throwin' shots, I just got here
The boss, I could pay contracts, sign the dotted line right here
Months in the game, but my impact's been years."
The beat faded out and Arell paused, his eyes still flickering as lyrics flew through his mind.
"Damn Arell, nah when they say this kid is the future they really mean it." Flex said, clearly hyped by the freestyle.
"Come on flex, come on we gotta go again." Arell said, his fingers jittering as he was itching to go again. "Oh, you tryna go again, say no more sir."
A new beat came on with a more melodic tone.
"Ok, came to New York to really show ya'll
I ain't got no numbers ones but I'm one of a kind."
"Facts! You better tell em!"
"Yeah, ok, yeah
I don't smoke, don't drink, just think and link
Bars together like the chain on my kitchen sink
They say young folks can't be poetic
But I'm droppin' gems that'll make Socrates frenetic
I'm on some other shit, like a toilet in the attic
Magnetic flow, I'm attracting static
From the city where deep dish ain't just about the pizza
Where we dish out bars that'll have your mind in seizures
My soul's too wide to fit in their narrow
Paradigms, I'm shiftin' like tectonic plates
My rhymes got more layers than a Chicago winter's base."
"Ok!"
"Raised on Maxwell Street, where the Polish met the blues
Now I'm parked in front of Lueders, next to Church's, payin' dues
Got 10 on command like Moses, no need for sinners
From Robert Taylor Homes to a mansion, that's growth
But the green never filled the void, that's real talk
Met a woman named Marsha on Grove, struggling
God's plan had me help her out, now we both bubblin
Money never made me happy, that's the devil's lie
But seein' smiles on faces I helped, now that's a high."
"Wow."
"They want that Lil Durk flow, that Chief Keef energy
But I'm on some Noname shit, that Chance divinity
Swervin' through I-90 thoughts, mind racin' like the Dan Ryan
Second guess my success? That's your second mistake, y'all
I''m on a whole 'nother frequency, tune in or don't be
I'm a product of the struggle, concrete rose
Thorns in my side, but I still compose
Prose potent as Chicago's finest blow
One chance at life, so I'm givin' it my all
Zero doubt in my mind, I'm destined for greatness
Negative infinity to infinity, I''m spaceless."
"Yo!"
"This ain't a game, but I'm playin' for keeps
Life's a beach, but I'm drownin' in the deep
Every second I'm alive is my finest hour…
How dumb it is, the foolishness that some display
Got millions in the bank but still choose crime as their way
They robbin' and stealin', when they're sittin' on gold
Chasin' pennies in the street, while their millions grow old
Addicted to the thrill, can't unplug from the plug."
"Keep spitting!"
I been starting seeing the world through a lens, narcissistic and conceited
Everybody chasin' fame, they don't even see it
Logos on their chest, they value what's material
I'm guilty too, rockin' brands like it's ethereal
Niggas flauntin' riches, but they broke in the soul
Sellin' out for clout, it's takin' its toll
Girls fuck for free, but what's the cost in the end?
Playin' games with their hearts, thinkin' they'll win
Repo men knockin', takin' back the facade
Cars, clothes, money, and still prayin' to God
But God's tired of the fakes, the false prophets of the street
Preachin' wealth and fame, but they ain't real in the least
I'm guilty of it, my thoughts preach against me
Like how can I love others if I can't even love me?"
"True."
"Skyscrapers of metaphors, I'm mayor of these players
Checkin' mate in three moves, I'm Bobby Fischer
Fisher of men, my words'll make a new believer."
As Arell finished, the studio erupted in cheers. Funk Flex was on his feet, his eyes wide with excitement. "Damn! That's tough! Arell Rose, ladies and gentlemen!" He turned to the mic, his voice filled with genuine awe. "Y'all just witnessed something special. Arell just went crazy on that beat!"
Arell sat back, a satisfied smile on his face as he caught his breath. The energy in the room was electric, the buzz of a truly memorable moment in hip-hop history.
Funk Flex continued, his voice animated as he addressed the listeners. "If you're just tuning in, you missed something incredible. Arell Rose just dropped one of the hottest freestyles I've heard in years. This kid is the real deal, folks. Remember where you heard it first!"
As the show wrapped up, Arell and Funk exchanged a firm handshake, mutual respect evident in their eyes. The rising star had just cemented his place in the rap game, and everyone in that studio knew they had witnessed the birth of a legend.