OX

The horsemen are here, and as the end of days draw near, they amplify and create more evil, hate, and fear. They’re occupying the minds of the sheep, simplifying the week applying constant pressure, just to keep us fragile and week There supplying us with nonsense that fucks up our conscience by glorifying a false reality that makes our normality just so unsatisfying. Its Blinding us to the underlying problems within ourselves Why can’t you see, they were scared, so they incited panic and planned and prepared when our voices became so loud, they separated us from the crowd Filled our heads with self doubt, Regressed us, force fed us bullshit and lies They’re keeping us in a state of constant duress. A last ditch effort to suppress the oppressed by taking away our free will, and replaced it with overwhelming stress. Making us lash out at our family while it consumes our humanity. The insanity of why we listen to the newsroom, there words imprison us in our own living room, they make us assume the worst and fear an impending doom

My friend called me Skibidi, smooth with the motion, Catch me in the mix, got the world in devotion. Gyat on my mind, yeah, she’s turning heads, A goon on the grind, stacking up my bread. I’m a rizzler, the king of finesse and play, Words hit heavy like beats from Dre. Slide to the scene, make the crowd go wild, Skibidi steppin’, I’m that trend-setting child. Skibidi gyat, got the vibes on lock, A goon in the cut, making haters all stop. Rizzler of the year, yeah, I’m never gonna flop, Got the bassline banging, watch it pop, pop, pop! Drip so clean, got ‘em staring in awe, Every step I take feels like breaking the law. Gyat with the glow, she a ten out of ten, Skibidi smooth, make ‘em do it again. A goon in the shadows, but I shine so bright, Lyrics too sharp, cut deep in the night. Rizzler supreme, yeah, my talk got weight, When I step to the mic, the whole room vibrates. Skibidi gyat, got the vibes on lock, A goon in the cut, making haters all stop. Rizzler of the year, yeah, I’m never gonna flop, Got the bassline banging, watch it pop, pop, pop! Skibidi sway, I’m the king of the groove, Gyat by my side, yeah, she loving the moves. A goon with the flair, always set to improve, Rizzler in the booth, yeah, I came to prove. Skibidi gyat, watch me rise to the top, Rizzler with the style, and the grind won’t stop. A goon with the hustle, yeah, I’m making it hot, Skibidi life, every beat’s a new drop!

isang umaga papasok sa iskwela,kasama ko ang tropa,may dalang mahiwaga,angat agad ung tama,tara pare umuwi na,baka may makakita,oh tama lng hinala,tinaasan yung tama,hanggang sa maging mali na,sunugin mo ang baga,hanggang sa humilata,hindi na tayo bata,mali kayang itama,sabi nga ni mama,sa tropa dumistansya, mas piniling makasama,mga tunay na barkada,sarap maging malaya,takasan ang problema,papuntang paraiso na magkakasama,mundo na magulo,hindi na alinta,baguhin ang sistema,baka mas lumalala pa,araling makinig kay mama at papa madaming iba jan namulat pagkabata, na buhay sa mahiwaga hanggang sa humilata,baguhin ang sistema baka mas lumalala pa,hindi na tayo bata para magkamali pa,sabi ng iba ang buhay ay isang pasada,

(Refren): Ovo nije samo kafa, ovo je lifestyle, Barista Cartel – k’o Bentley u drive-by. Pjena ko snijeg, okus k’o raj, U Tuzli smo doma, vidi se da smo high. (1. Strofa): Krenem s espressom, brate, miješam s ljubavlju, Šolja se puši, sve ko da je u usporenom snu. Latte art na nivou, slika Monetove klase, U Cartelu svi znaju – kava ovdje spaja mase. Bubble tea, smoothie, šta ti treba, ti biraj, Okusi putuju svijetom, bez da uzmeš vizu, znaj. Od Dubaija do Pariza, od Tuzle do neba, Svaka šolja priča priču – k’o da vrijeme ne treba. (Refren): Ovo nije samo kafa, ovo je lifestyle, Barista Cartel – k’o Bentley u drive-by. Pjena ko snijeg, okus k’o raj, U Tuzli smo doma, vidi se da smo high. (2. Strofa): Kadaif, pistaći, aroma u zraku, Dubai latte topi brige, sve stavi na traku. Barista u bijelom, potez latte art genija, Svaki gutljaj stavi Tuzlu na mapu svemira. Granica nema, kafa svuda širi love, U šolji imaš ocean – valovi boje snova. Espresso shot, ristretto vibe, U Barista Cartelu, samo premium drive. (Bridge): Svi hoće naš recept, ali brate to je skill, Godine su iza toga, nije ovo samo chill. Barista Cartel, mi smo ekipa za sve, Kada piješ našu kafu, ti si dio naše scene. (Refren): Ovo nije samo kafa, ovo je lifestyle, Barista Cartel – k’o Bentley u drive-by. Pjena ko snijeg, okus k’o raj, U Tuzli smo doma, vidi se da smo high. (Outro): Yo, kafa je ljubav, kafa je spika, Barista Cartel – tvoja dnevna navika. Šolja nas spaja, od grada do grada, Tuzla, Sarajevo, vibe – svuda pada.

Forest Soul (Verse 1) Yo, I'm trapped in this maze, man, lost in the haze, Chasin' dreams that fade like lines on a page. Regret in my chest, monster under the bed, Dancin' with shadows, livin' life half-dead. Used to be a pawn, holdin' tears in a jar, Now I’m breakin’ free, man, I’m raisin’ the bar. (Chorus) I run my own circus, ain't no strings on me, Not a doll you can use for your sick fantasies. Fuck off with your standards, I’m carving my path, Face my demons, hear 'em howl, feel their wrath. (Verse 2) Poppin' pills ain't a thrill, just a ghost in the night, Tryna numb the pain, yeah, I'm puttin' up a fight. Suicide whispers, I can hear that call, But I stand up stronger, watch me rise and not fall. A forest soul, feel the roots in my veins, Growin' up means struggle, ain't no room for chains. (Chorus) I run my own circus, ain't no strings on me, Not a doll you can use for your sick fantasies. Fuck off with your standards, I’m carving my path, Face my demons, hear 'em howl, feel their wrath. (Bridge) Lonely nights, moonlight fights, I’m a wreck, But I’m built from the earth, man, what the heck? Motivated, elevated, I’m ready to soar, Regrets in my past, but I’m hungry for more. (Verse 3) So I’m throwin’ confetti, make my pain a parade, Run away from the dark, make the light my crusade. Chasin’ hope through the trees, with my heart in my hands, A forest soul wild, breakin' free from your plans. I'm not your doll, babe, I’m a force to be reckoned, Turn my scars into stars, yeah, I’m spittin’ that lesson. (Chorus) I run my own circus, ain't no strings on me, Not a doll you can use for your sick fantasies. Fuck off with your standards, I’m carving my path, Face my demons, hear 'em howl, feel their wrath. (Outro) So here’s to the pain and the battles I won, I’m no longer lost, man, I’m finally done. With a forest soul vibe, I’m takin’ my stand, A king in my circus, yeah, I’m livin’ so grand.

Born in the dust, never seen a throne, Struggled in silence, always on my own, No love, no friends, just the pain in my chest, Working so hard, no time to rest. No silver spoon, just dreams in my mind, Sacrificing happiness, tryna make a life find, Pain in my veins, fire in my soul, Climbing up hills, but I’m losing control. **Chorus:** Fast life, slow grind, watch me rise, Sacrifice my peace, reaching for the skies, Chasing dreams, no matter how high, Pain in my heart, but I’ll never say goodbye. **Verse 2:** Life’s a battle, every step’s a war, Pushing through pain, can’t take no more, Fell down so many times, but I won’t fall, I’m a fighter, yeah, I’m standing tall. Dreams are distant, but I’ll keep chasing, Through the struggle, no time for waiting, Family’s my fire, but I burn alone, Running so fast, but I’m far from home. **Chorus:** Fast life, slow grind, watch me rise, Sacrifice my peace, reaching for the skies, Chasing dreams, no matter how high, Pain in my heart, but I’ll never say goodbye. **Outro:** Lower class, but I’m aiming high, Every day’s a battle, but I’ll touch the sky, Pain's my fuel, hustle’s my game, From the dust, I’ll rise and make my name!

VERS 1] -Julstressen är stor nu vid jul och alla ni är ful -Men inte ludde för han är vår ice ice ice star och När ludde kastar Julkulan det blir spice spice spice dag [Refräng] - Av kulla Nathalie gråter och ni alla ser ut som råtter - Meja kalla vår tomte kines men hon luktar att hon fes Vi kommer fortsätta gö gö göra för det är kul och ni är tjejer som inte kan kö kö köra på jul [VERS 2] -Ni tjejer ni tror ni duger men på matte ni Suger -Ni kan inte släpa diss ni är inte friska det enda ni kan är att diska [Refräng] - Av kulla Nathalie gråter och ni alla ser ut som råtter - Meja kalla vår tomte kines men hon luktar att hon fes Vi kommer fortsätta gö gö göra för det är kul och ni är tjejer som inte kan kö kö köra på jul [Bridge] -Vi killar vi klappar er som en julklapp och eran IQ nivå är samma som någon som har en napp -Ni tror ni är ett snille men imagine att inte ha en kille [Refräng] - Av kulla Nathalie gråter och ni alla ser ut som råtter - Meja kalla vår tomte kines men hon luktar att hon fes Vi kommer fortsätta gö gö göra för det är kul och ni är tjejer som inte kan kö kö köra på jul [Outro] HO HO HO just GO GO GO

Verse 1: Yo, it’s Slim on the mic, let me spit some clarity, Fractional shares vs. crypto disparity. Fractional shares, you’re buyin’ a piece, Of a stock like Tesla, your slice of the beast. It’s legit, it’s tight, regulated and clear, You’re owning real equity, so have no fear. It’s a slice of a pie, like dessert in disguise, Growin’ slow, steady – Wall Street vibes. Chorus: Crypto’s wild, like a digital spree, Fractional shares? That’s the slow-cook recipe. One’s the casino, the other’s the plan, Choose your style, man – understand the scam. Verse 2: Crypto, man, it’s a digital beast, Decentralized money, the hype don’t cease. Bitcoin, Ether, memes in disguise, Price swings higher than Marshall’s rise. No stocks, no shares, no dividend payout, But blockchain tech’s got the nerds freakin’ out. It’s risky, it’s fast, like the rabbit’s race, But you could lose it all if the markets erase. Bridge: Fractional shares are the turtle, slow and steady, Crypto’s the hare, wild but unsteady. One builds wealth, one’s a gamble in disguise, But both need brains to avoid demise. Outro: So here’s Slim Shady breakin’ it down, Fractional shares wear a sensible crown. Crypto’s a rocket, but watch where it lands, Choose wisely, homie – your money’s in your hands.

Alkene to a diol add KMnO4 its an oxidation reaction, alkene to a alcohol add H2O in gaseous form and use a H3PO4 catalyst, alkene to a halogenoalkane add HBr at room temperature its electrophillic addition, alcohol to an alkene add concentrated H3PO4 its elimination and dehydration, alkene to a poly alkene use a high pressure catalyst its polymerisation, halogenoalkane to an alkene add alcoholic KOH and heat under reflux its elimination

[waves_crashing] Strophe1: Auf unserem Teller, da tanzt das Leben, woanders stillt der Regen nur den Staub. Unser Hunger gestillt, vom Buffet alles nehmen. Schmeiß weg die Reste, doch sie essen, das ist Raub. Der volle Teller glänzt und lockt. Unser Reichtum ruht - lassen wir uns nicht blenden - Auf den staubigen hohlen Händen Des angelockten Sündenbocks Refrain: Wie sollen wir schlafen, bei diesen Schreien? Wer sind unsere Kinder, wenn sie nicht teilen? Was bleibt von der Welt, wenn wir sie totschweigen? So nah, wir hören es lodern, das FEUER!!!!!!! Doch ihre verbrannten Gesichter sind uns nicht geheuer. Und 1 Liter Wasser, der ist uns zu teuer. Strophe2: Apropo diese Sündenböcke die tragenden Hände, voll von Dreck Wir wählen, Donald, Elliss, Höcke Die stoßen diese dann lässig weg Wie kann man nur so seine Seele verkaufen? Wir zähln Kalorien und sie Krümel zum teilen. Säcke voll Schuhen während sie barfuß laufen. Wir bauen nen Pool, während sie dursten und leiden. (Refrain) Strophe3: Wie kann man sich trauen ein Urteil zu fällen? Sie wollen nicht gehen, doch wir fällen die Bäume. Es geht um Menschen? Man spricht nur von Wellen. Bei einem Himmel aus Asche ist kein Platz mehr für Träume. Sie steigen in ein Boot aus Angst Fahren über ein Meer aus Tränen. Du sagst: Ist doch nix wofür du was kannst. Muss man das denn immer erwähnen? (Refrain) Outro: Würden wir diese Welt durch ihre Augen sehen: - - [Break] Mir fehlt die Kraft diese Wege zu gehen. Warum bleiben sie stumm, ham doch so viel zu geben? Nun hört unsere Schreie, mein Kind, das will leben. Sie wollen nicht, dass wir das überstehen! Hatte lange Geduld, spüre Wut in mir beben. Wenn ihr es nicht gebt, dann werd ichs uns nehmen Ich werd euch den goldenen Teller umdrehen. - - - [Break] Zurück vom Tellerrand, muss noch den Rasen mähn, kurz was essen und Fernsehn - Ist es wohl ein Problem? Im Anschluss - - mit vollem Magen noch im Wellenbad schwimmen zu gehen? [wave_effect]

Titolo: “Fumo nei Pensieri” [Strofa 1] Pioggia cade sui sanpietrini, bagnano le suole, passi pesanti come storie su cartelle nuove. Roma sputa spine, tra il fumo e le rovine, un sorso d’amaro mentre il tempo ci rovina. Sotto i lampioni, la strada chiama, io rispondo, parole come tagli, cicatrici sopra il mondo. Un altro tiro per capirci qualcosa, ma qui la verità è nascosta in una busta chiusa. Sogni che affogano, vetro in una pozza, mentre un’altra notte passa e non mi accorgo della corsa. La luna è un riflesso sopra il parabrezza, sto fermo in doppia fila mentre penso alla vendetta. [Ritornello] Fumo nei pensieri, la città che grida, Roma è una lama che ti lascia senza via d’uscita. Strade che bruciano, storie di periferia, tra il cemento e i sogni, resto solo in compagnia. [Strofa 2] Gli occhi sono rossi come i semafori rotti, l’anima pesa più del peso che mi porto nei blocchi. Facce che non parlano, tra luci e vetri appannati, sto cercando un domani in sguardi disperati. Le chiavi girano, le porte restano chiuse, prigionieri in una giungla di speranze deluse. Scarto la vita come una busta di plastica, un altro giro e mi risveglio in questa giostra drastica. Il freddo sui palazzi sembra quasi una sentenza, mi copro con un sorriso, ma è solo una parvenza. Ogni passo falso pesa, lo porto sulla schiena, mentre il beat pulsa forte, la mia cura e la mia pena. [Ritornello] Fumo nei pensieri, la città che grida, Roma è una lama che ti lascia senza via d’uscita. Strade che bruciano, storie di periferia, tra il cemento e i sogni, resto solo in compagnia. [Outro] E quando tutto tace, resta solo il mio respiro, un’altra notte è andata, eppure ancora non capisco. Cenere sul tempo, polvere nei polmoni, questa vita è un attimo tra mille illusioni.

Je suis peut-être quelqu'un de trop ambicieuse, c'est sûr Et possède cette passion ancrée en moi, Ils m'ont tous dit que je n'y arriverai pas Mais cette passion l'art, est ma voie j'en suis sûre. Une caméra, un micro et des acteurs C'est ce qu'il nous faut pour réaliser un film Quoi de mieux qu'une petite touche de peur Afin de faire mon troisième court-métrage.