In When the World Learned to Listen, gravity has rhythm and curiosity becomes sound. Set against dark trap beats, heavy bass, and ghostly synths, the track transforms Sir Isaac Newton’s discoveries—motion, light, gravity—into a sonic meditation on chaos and comprehension. Two voices intertwine and diverge, navigating tension and collapse, echoing the invisible laws that govern planets and perception alike.

The beat pulses like a cosmic heart, fractured yet precise, mirroring the unseen order in the universe. The duo doesn’t plead but listens—tracing paths of comets, arcs of planets, and the subtle prisms of light—exploring whether order exists before consciousness or emerges through observation. By the final resonance, darkness and rhythm fuse into reflection and awe.

A tribute to Newton, a dialogue with the cosmos, and a dance with the unseen.

When the World Learned to Listen

WKS INTRO

a ballad dedicated to every Mother in the universe...

Stay With Me Forever

Wake the wolves…
Call the blood moon down—
Wake the wolves.

I walked through fire with no flame to guide,
Thorns in my lungs where I used to hide.
You tried to cage me in your paper crown—
But storms like me don’t bow, we drown.

Every scar sharpened teeth,
Every loss howls underneath.
You thought I’d break alone this time—
But every heartbeat calls my pride.

Footsteps rising in the pines,
Power running through the spines.
You thought I fought this war alone—
But wolves return to claim the throne.

Wake the wolves, let the wild hearts answer,
Drums shake bones, burning faster.
No more chains, no throne to hold us—
We rise as one—try to control us.

Wake the wolves, feel the earth start shaking,
Old empires already breaking.
Run if you want, we move as one—
Night begins where fear comes undone.

Steel in my breath, blood on the path,
Count my scars then do the math.
You built your crown on borrowed bones—
I raise my pack and take back thrones.

(Awoo—rise up.)
(Awoo—no fear.)
Wake the wolves.

Wake the Wolves

Beat it up pt2

Real hip hop

This song follows a man standing in the same rooms where his love once felt alive. The story moves through memory, regret, and the slow truth of losing what mattered. The melodies stretch across quiet spaces and the weight of nights spent alone. You hear the ache of trying to move forward while living inside what used to be home.


Back Where Love Use to Live

Back Where Love Used to Live

庆庆

Hiro

Today I turn 25. 2025 was one of the toughest years for me, but I’m not giving up. I keep believing in myself and my strength. Because challenges like these are meant to harden you, to lift you up.

There was a lot of self-reflection. I got closer to myself, started understanding my mind better. There were many stressful situations, but also moments of joy. One day I’ll manage to break free from chronic stress and the pressure I put on myself, the pressure of my own thoughts. I’ll become stronger. And I’ll live my best life. But for now, I’m working with what I have.

Again and again, I return to how important it is to have a goal. To understand where you’re going. Without direction, your ship just drifts — and eventually sinks, the same way I sank into my thoughts and lack of responsibility.

I found three words that bring me back: discipline, consistency, and focus. Everything is connected, everything is self-sufficient. It’s time to rethink and rebuild my life and my place in it. I want more. And I deserve more. And I’ll work for it.

I have everything I need to achieve what matters to me. I can do it, sooner or later. For now, I’m learning life’s lessons and planning my next step.

It’s time to overcome my fears — and take action.

#RMX #remixittt

Solemn

STUCK

Anbid Zaman is a queer activist and artist whose work rises from a life marked by displacement, resistance, and the insistence on living fully even when the world tries to deny that possibility. Born in Bangladesh and shaped by grassroots queer organizing from a young age, they grew into their voice through community struggle — learning early that courage isn’t an act, but a daily discipline.

Their journey from danger to refuge transformed them without erasing their origins. Living in Germany, Anbid continues to work at the intersections of identity, migration, and liberation, supporting queer people who face violence and navigating the complexities of chosen family, safety, and belonging. Their activism is guided by deep commitments: justice without compromise, solidarity across borders, and an unshakeable belief that marginalised voices should be heard not with pity, but with respect.

These values spill directly into their music. Anbid’s sound blends testimonial storytelling, emotional minimalism, and atmospheric layers shaped by memory — the quiet of hiding, the noise of protest, the ache of leaving, the thrill of surviving. Each track carries the weight of lived experience and the brightness of hope that refuses to die. Their art is not just expression; it is continuation, resistance, and a reminder that stories carry power long before the world acknowledges them.