A tip sheet of things to do — and avoid — from two navigators in a cutthroat industry.
On A Tribe Called Quest’s 1991 song “Show Business,” Lord Jamar offers a wise music-industry primer, and warning, for aspiring rappers: “Time pass and your ass say, ‘Where’s my loot?’ / The reply is a kick in the ass from a leg in a boot.” Through his lyrics, Jamar paints a portrait of the treacherous, cynical, often bureaucratic terrain that rappers must navigate to obtain lasting success. It’s a nearly impossible challenge to face for a young and inexperienced rapper, so having a seasoned team to turn to is crucial.
Enter the rap manager. It’s a role that requires many hats: getting an artist paid, booking their tours, navigating their emotional ups and downs, and granting them the space and freedom to produce greatness (and, on occasion, roll a blunt). If they’re skilled at the job, they serve as both best friend and drill sergeant, coddling their clients one moment, then hectoring them into making a scheduled event (relatively) on time the next. Thirty-one-year-old fashion-industry vet Glyn Brown, who manages New York rapper and producer Cash Cobain, describes those who hold the gig as “often the last people you think of but the first people you blame.” Terrence “Snake” Hawkins, a 48-year-old battle-tested manager who helped Detroit native Veeze secure an unprecedented label deal with Warner Records, notes that all rappers who want to survive “need a guide who can rock with you every day, 24 hours a day. Shit, you need a Moses — somebody to lead you out and plant the seeds.”
To get a fuller sense of the high-stakes and unpredictable job of a rap manager, Brown and Hawkins drew from their experiences handling two of rap’s most recent breakout stars in Cash and Veeze.
Remember, you have 50 jobs in one.
Terrence “Snake” Hawkins: “Manager” is a broad term. If you’re smart, you do whatever needs to be done. If they got luggage, you say, “Go to the car, I’ll get your bag.” You can’t have an ego: Oh, I’m not your assistant. If you want them to get on that tour bus, put them bags under the bus. I’ve also had to go to the dope house and get artists so they can get on a plane.
Never forget the money …
T.H.: Play whatever role you got to play to get the money to flow. You meet a lot of arrogant people who say, “I’m a manager. This is my artist.” Okay, well, how much revenue did you make last quarter? How about last year? You didn’t make no money? So what are you managing?
… But remember the money’s not about you.
T.H.: Some managers will book an artist somewhere they don’t need to go because the manager needs to pay off their rent or car. That’s when you put yourself in a hole. It’s terrible management. Don’t make a decision for your client because you’re broke.
Never overpromise.
T.H.: All I knew was the streets. Then I started managing a clothing store, and athletes would come through, like Kevin Garnett. Then I started promoting shows, which led to running promotion for Mike Tyson’s record label. And that led to managing Gucci Mane. I met Veeze around then. Gucci wanted to sign him. I never got in the way of that, but I told Veeze, “I can’t buy you a chain, I can’t buy you a car, but I can guarantee you’ll be your own boss and own your masters. When you’re ready, just let me know.” A few years later, he called and said, “Yo, big bro, I’m ready.”
Don’t leak the music …
T.H.: I can’t monetize if music gets leaked; it’s all over. It’s impossible to plug all the leaks. If you look on YouTube, I’m sure they’re monetizing it. I don’t care if they made six bucks — I want it. Because if you add up all those six dollars over a plethora of different sites, that shit might add up to $200,000. I want my artist’s money.
… Well, actually, maybe leak the music.
Glyn Brown: We did that with “Grippy.” We tricked your minds. People thought it was a new song with Cash and J. Cole. We didn’t put “Dunk Contest (Remix)” on it. We just named it something different. Some people got fooled. I feel like leaks is good. I’m not going to lie — sometimes, it can push the song. Cash leaks his own fucking music, basically. [Laughs]
Sell them on touring.
T.H.: I had to convince an agent who knew nothing about Veeze — and Veeze, who knew nothing about having an agent — to sit down together, because I knew we needed to tour. That’s what a lot of young artists don’t understand. It’s about putting the building blocks around the artist for them to be successful. Those were components that made Ganger what it was. If you’ve ever been with the chairman of a record label, the first thing they tell a manager is, “They need to be touring.” Why? Because when an artist is moving, awareness goes up, streams go up, sales go up.
Be protective of your artist’s well-being …
T.H.: I’ve been in situations where doing drugs has been the barrier to the success of the artist — whether it’s Percs, Xanax, lean, any of that stuff. Also money: When you get artists and they’re on the come-up, they’re willing to run through a brick wall. Then, when they get money in their pockets, they don’t want to keep doing the work, and it becomes challenging.
… Especially their ears.
T.H.: I tell Veeze all the time, “We need to get more into using TV tracks versus you screaming over your vocals, because you’re going to become hoarse. We didn’t get in-ear monitors for the first tour, so I took Veeze to the ear doctor. They made a mold of his ears. Without them, you’ll eventually become deaf. Also, it makes for a better show. I know I get on his nerves with it sometimes, but I’m like, “Hey, go look at Jay-Z when he performs,” because he loves Jay. “Listen to the clarity.”
Know where they are 24/7.
G.B.: Cash might be in New Jersey, and then suddenly I have to be in Harlem with him because he has some obligation, but no one can get him on the phone. And then we gotta look at his location, which he shares with us. Sometimes we gotta pull up on him. It’s hectic, but you just gotta think ahead.
Understand your artist’s worth.
T.H.: Everybody was into Veeze, but a lot of the offers we were getting didn’t reflect the work he put in. I remember telling my attorney, “We’re not taking more visits. Let’s get with a PR company and just put Ganger out on our own, independently.”
Never be afraid to disagree …
G.B.: It’s all schedules and deadlines with Cash. He’s an artist, and he moves on his own time. When he hits on something and he wants to drop, it’s next week. And then we’ll have deadlines. Cash is very unorthodox about when he turns shit in. And you got to know how to really reverse his brain. I say, “We’re trying to 48 Cash.” [Laughs]
T.H.: An artist will say, “Hey, I want to release this record.” Well, sometimes that’s not a great idea. If there’s a sample in it, I need to clear the sample, which can be complicated. I’m not trying to infringe on your art, I’m only giving my opinion. But I’m also giving you the reality of the decision that you want to make and how this may cost us. That can be a push and pull.
… Or admit when you’ve fucked up.
T.H.: When making mistakes, be honest. If I fuck up, I let them know. That builds trust between you and your artist. You just got to honor it: “Hey, that’s my bad. I missed that. I apologize.” And if it’s a situation where it was something that cost us money, then I have to eat it.
Always keep the fans fed …
G.B.: People wanted an album from Cash, but we didn’t want to rush anything. But we also didn’t want to leave the supporters without music. Cash was like, “We got to capitalize on this motion.” That’s why we went on that run where we were dropping a single every week. That’s a big, big, big part of why I feel like right now he’s blowing the fuck up.
… But tease them, too.
T.H.: When I was Glyn’s age and younger, you had to do promo tours. That’s when you get in the van and go city to city doing radio shows. Then you stop at record stores to do CD signings. Now you can be lazy. You got to get your artist to understand, “Hey, your project is about to drop. You need to start teasing it on socials.” You have to convince them to get off their ass. When the shit don’t perform well, they look for people to blame. Well, guess what? You didn’t promote it on your Twitter or your Instagram. As a rap artist, you have to make up the attention deficit.
Don’t do too much too soon.
T.H.: I wish I could do Veeze’s international tour over. I was so hell-bent on making him global. We did three phases of the Ganger tour. We were successful with phases one and two. The revenue stream went up by 60 percent. I knew I was going to lose on international; I told Veeze, “We’re not going to make money.” But it wasn’t so much about the money, it was about building for the following year. But I also hadn’t done an international run in years, since I worked with Thug in 2015 and 2016. I should have been better prepared. We needed to carve out a budget for festivals. If we can’t book anything between these dates, we can’t do the festival. I don’t mind breaking even, I just don’t want to come out of my pocket. I’m still bleeding from this run.
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