The good news didn't stop there. Cardi B's debut EP, Bodak Yellow, had also finished post-production almost at the same time and was currently being printed full-tilt on the factory line.
Because he had high hopes for Cardi B, Leon wasn't conservative with the first print run.
30,000 CDs and 5,000 vinyl records.
The printing costs alone were a huge chunk of change, but fortunately, his funds were constantly replenished by his record royalties from Roc Nation.
This number was nothing for an A-list singer, and even somewhat conservative for Leon's current status.
After all, Cardi B was a complete nobody, and she had just turned 18 this year.
Compared to printing costs, promotion was the real money-burner.
There were at least a hundred name-brand music radio stations in New York alone, not to mention countless niche stations hidden in community corners.
To air a short three-minute new song on a somewhat famous station, the price started at $1,000.
If that wasn't enough, you could add another $500, and the radio DJs would offer a few minutes of nutritious-less praise, blowing smoke up your ass in various creative ways.
Although this method of radio promotion was old-school, it was still efficient.
The US has the highest per capita car ownership in the world—almost one car per person if you count kids and seniors.
And most Americans have the habit of listening to the radio while driving, which means even those obscure workshop stations have their own die-hard fans.
"These greedy bastards..." Phil handed a collected list of new song trial broadcast quotes from various New York radio stations to Leon, cursing non-stop.
He had compiled this list after making over a hundred calls with Bonnie recently.
When Leon saw the quotes from the major stations, he finally understood why Phil was so angry.
New York's most famous pop music station, Z100, quoted $5,000, and whether they played it or not still depended on the song quality.
Given Z100's massive user base, this price wasn't expensive; it was actually quite a bargain.
But the quotes further down the list made Leon lose his cool. Community stations that usually took orders for a few hundred dollars had collectively raised their prices to over $1,000.
"Fk, has the dollar depreciated that much?"
When Leon saw a garbage station on the list asking for $10,000, he instantly understood everything.
"Chester Bad Boys Radio." This station belonged to T-Ray, and its office was in the utility room of the cheap club below his office.
This small workshop established in 1999 barely had any business and was currently half-defunct.
As for when it broadcast, it depended entirely on when T-Ray got high enough to randomly pick a lucky listener for an online rap battle, insulting each other's ancestors.
The reason other famous community stations collectively raised their prices must also be T-Ray pulling strings behind the scenes. No radio station focused on rap music wasn't afraid of his Bloods background.
"This damn nr made so much off me, and he's still not satisfied."
The more Leon thought about it, the angrier he got. T-Ray had milked nearly five figures from him through record sales and gigs, plus he took $100,000 of the money Jay-Z gave.
What was even more annoying was that T-Ray was still secretly printing pirated records for huge profits even though Leon had signed with Roc Nation.
"Something feels off..."
He combed through it in his mind. Although things ended badly between him and T-Ray, the nr was simple-minded and lazy as hell. Why would he go through all this trouble?
Just then, Phil laughed awkwardly. "This might be partly my fault."
You again?
Leon crossed his hands under his chin, waiting quietly for the old man to explain.
This old scumbag was morally bankrupt to the core. Not only did he stab his brother in the back, but he also slept with George's woman...
If he had something going on with T-Ray's wife too, then everything would be easily explained.
"Actually, I discovered Cardi B in George's club..." Phil sighed helplessly.
"So you're saying, besides me, you poached from T-Ray more than once?"
"It wasn't really poaching... Cardi was just a stripper back then. Only I noticed her talent." As he spoke, Phil winked at Cardi B beside him.
Cardi fiddled with her at least two-inch fake nails and laughed weirdly. "T-Ray and George, those two pathetic nrs, didn't know quality when they saw it!"
"They didn't realize this solid gold ass was right in front of their eyes!"
Saying this, Cardi stood up and gently rubbed her "tail light" back and forth on Phil's face.
Since the album recording got on track, their relationship had improved rapidly. Before that, she threatened to blow Phil's balls off at least three times a day on average.
Enjoying the scent of the sea, Phil spread his hands. "I recommended Cardi to them more than once later on. Those idiots just didn't take it seriously."
"Then your situation happened. Now that Cardi wants to release a record, T-Ray and the others will naturally obstruct it in every way possible."
At this point, Leon basically gave up hope of settling this smoothly.
But if he lost the cheap and effective promotion method of radio, how could he promote this crucial album?
The asking prices of those mainstream media professional critics would only be blacker than the radio stations.
"What's up? It's just two damn stupid nrs!"
"Let me handle everything!"
"You?" Leon and Phil looked at Cardi B in unison, wondering if the girl was having another manic episode.
Actually, she was never really normal.
"Motherfka! I'm gonna teach them a lesson. Anyone who dares to stop me from getting famous, get ready to eat bullets!"
"And I mean anyone!"
Saying this, Cardi reached into her bra, pulled out a Glock, and expertly chambered a round.
"Please sit down first. We can think of another way."
Leon hurried to calm Cardi down. He couldn't just let this Black girl run wild.
If worse came to worst, he'd just grit his teeth, spend more money, and partner with big stations like Z100.
His friends in the industry, Kendrick and Robbie, had some appeal.
He even shamelessly thought of his "sister-in-law" Beyoncé. If he used his linguistic art to flatter the woman properly, maybe the diva would actually give him a hand?
"No! This has to end! Gang matters must be solved the gang way!"
"Those two bastards have zero respect for me!"
Before Leon could say anything else, Cardi B had already stormed out the door with the gun.
"Fk, Phil, do something! That girl is gonna get herself killed!"
Leon was more anxious than if his own mother were in the ICU. Not because he was genuinely worried about Cardi's safety...
He had dumped nearly $100,000 on this girl. He couldn't just watch his human money-printing machine get scrapped before it even started running.
"Maybe she really can solve it. In the eyes of gangsta nrs, only sufficient violence earns their respect."
Leon understood Phil's logic, but how could an 18-year-old Black girl pull it off?
If it was a contest of nastiness, even actresses from Brazzers might not beat Cardi, but violence? How could she compare to OGs who had been in the game for over twenty years?
The only way Leon could imagine Cardi winning was if she "smothered" George and T-Ray to death with her tail light.