temptation «:|:» the weeknd

seven

seven

"From the top!" Illangelo spoke to him through the mic outside the booth.

Abel went over the part he was recording again before putting his headphones back on. "Go ahead."

The instrumental started with the first verse, which he hadn't recorded yet. Abel waited for the hook to start and sang the lyrics.

All that money, the money is the motive.

All that money, the money is the motive.

All that money, the money she be foldin'.

Girl put in work, girl, girl put in work.

"I feel like something is missing!" Abel complained, taking a seat next to Valerie on the couch. His eyes were glued to the screen of his iPhone where he was typing in words into his notes app and constantly pressing the 'x' on the bottom right of the keyboard.

"If anything is missing, it must be your confidence. You overlook and stress about everything, my nigga. This isn't one of them songs where you gotta do the most. Don't kill the vibe."

Here goes this annoying ass nigga once again.

"Thanks for making me aware of that, Lamar. Mad appreciation, really."

Hyghly chuckled at his sarcastic monotone. "Abel, he's right, man. This beat is really smooth, you don't need to do too much."

"Imma go back in for it." He walked back into the booth, closed the door, and put the headphones on again.

From the morning to the evening.

Complaints from the tenants.

Got the walls kickin' like they six months pregnant.

Drinkin' Alizé with our cereal for breakfast.

Girls callin' cabs at dawn, quarter to seven.

The sky is gettin' cold, we're flyin' from the North.

Rockin' with our city like a sold-out show.

House full of pros that specialize in the hoe'ing.

Make that money rain as they takin' off they clothes.

"Yo, keep going!" Illangelo spoke through the mic once again. "I like what you're saying!"

Order plane tickets, Cali is the mission.

Visit every month like I'm split life livin'.

Let the world listen, if a hater's caught slippin'

Then my niggas stay tight, got my back like Pippen.

Fast life grippin', yeah we still tippin'

Codeine cups paint a picture so vivid.

Fakes try to mimic, get girls timid.

But behind closed doors they get poles so rigid.

"Play that back for me."

Illangelo blasted the music through his headphones as he observed his work.

Damn, this is great. And I'm not even high yet.

Abel felt like he needed to re-record the verse, but after listening to it, he liked it. He was completely astonished by the fact that he had succeeded on his first try. Lamar was right. His voice indeed flowed with the music, and it was like his alto tone was created for the instrumental.

"Alright, Imma keep it going." Abel insisted, taking a drink from the water bottle on the music stand and also a deep breath.

Don't overlook it.

He stared directly at Valerie while singing these words that were truly dedicated to her.

Better slow down, she'll feel it in the morning.

Ain't the kinda girl you'll be seeing in the morning.

Too damn raw, ain't a nigga worth her holding.

Ain't a nigga that she holding, man her love is too damn foreign.

Making all that money, the money is the motive.

All that money, the money she be foldin'.

Girl, put in work, girl girl put in work.

Girl, put in work, girl girl put in work.

They held gazes for a while, but once the meaning behind the music started to register with her, she lost eye contact. He hadn't meant to offend her. The song wasn't made to disown her as if she should be ashamed of that night. Honestly, he wrote the lyrics when he was high and whenever he was high, everything became irrelevant to him. Abel couldn't maintain reality when he was levitated and that was what truly made him say those things. Abel wouldn't ever encourage her to strip, but someone behind that mastermind would.

He wasn't always out, but when he was, he would want her to do her thing. He would want her to replace her sorrow and regret with dancing. And not prancing around with God and all angelic things, but getting down with the man downtown. Who would ever want these things for her? He went by The Weeknd.

But hey, whoever The Weeknd was made extraordinary music and Abel wasn't looking forward to changing that.

So put in work, baby girl. Do your dirty little degrading thing.

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