Instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
Lyrics written by Dr Mester .
Not for commercial use.

Tribute to Dr. Weston A. Price, DDS, a pioneer in nutritional research who traveled the world studying traditional diets and their impact on human health. His discoveries revealed how ancestral wisdom, whole foods, and natural balance led to strong teeth, sharp vision, and disease-free lives—until modern diets disrupted it all.

"The Real Remedy"is a powerful anthem about food, history, and health. From the Swiss Alps to the Maasai plains, from Eskimos to Melanesians, this track tells the real story—how refined foods stole vitality, and how the remedy has been with us all along.

Let the rhythm move you, let the message sink in. This is music that makes you think.


Lyrics

Yo, listen up, it's time for a remedy,
Ancient wisdom, cure for modern enemies,
We got the facts, and it’s clear to see,
What you eat determines your vitality.

We got the remedy, no more mystery,
Healing from the root, back to history,
They messed it up with that factory food,
We’re bringing balance, getting back to good

[Verse 1]
They say, "You are what you eat," but you gotta understand,
They took the wisdom from the elders, and they made it bland.
From the Swiss with their butter, to the Maasai and their beef,
Whole foods provide the real relief.
The Eskimos, they thrive on that animal fat,
But the moment they changed, they lost that act.
No disease, no decay, no cholesterol,
But you bring in the sugar, and it’s bound to fall.
Their eyes were sharp, like hawks in flight,
Could track through the dark, with supernatural sight.
Saw constellations far, distant and bright,
With just a glance, they knew the night.
But the food they ate began to shift,
Blurring the stars, the fog in their gift.
Once they saw far, they tracked the unseen,
Now their vision’s sunk, like teeth turned lean.
Teeth still strong, but the sight’s not the same,
From distant stars to now losing the aim.


We got the remedy, no more mystery,
Healing from the root, back to history,
They messed it up with that factory food,
We’re bringing balance, getting back to good.

[Verse 2]

It’s more than just the food, it's the life they lived,
They understood the balance, they gave and they give.
In the Andes, the Peruvians thrive high in the sky,
No tooth decay, no sickness, just reaching for the sky.
In the Melanesians, the secret’s clear,
Coconut oil, sea food, no fear.
But now they’re forced to eat that processed mess,
Heart disease, diabetes, no longer blessed.
The Gaelic Isles, their fish and oats,
Perfect health, that's what they wrote.
But once the refined foods hit the scene,
Tooth decay rose, and the sickness was mean.

[Bridge]

They say “you can’t go back,” but that’s where we went wrong,
Eating whole, mineral-rich foods, that’s where we belong.
Stop with the sugars, the processed, the fake,
Get back to the roots, for health’s sake.

[Hook]

We got the remedy, no more mystery,
Healing from the root, back to history,
They messed it up with that factory food,
We’re bringing balance, getting back to good.

[Verse 3]

Now listen up, you gotta make the switch,
Get rid of the junk, ditch that itch.
Go for the fat, go for the meat,
Healthy bones, strong teeth—now that's elite.
Coconut oil, liver, and fish,
Real food, real health, that’s the dish
You’re not just what you eat, you’re how you live,
So start with the wisdom, take it, give
No more disease, no more pain,
Get back to the roots, and break the chain.
It’s time to rise it's time to stand
Back to the natural take your health back in hand

[Outro]
The real remedy, straight from the ground,
No more sickness, no more sound.
Live strong, live right, take back your time,
Get back to whole foods, it's your prime

The Real Remedy

Instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
Lyrics written by Dr Mester .
Not for commercial use.

"No Broccoli for Nobody" is more than just a track—it's a deep dive into the clash of ancient wisdom and modern-day dogma. Inspired by Weston Price’s findings and the timeless balance in traditional diets, this song flips the script on what we’ve been told about food and health. We’re talking Eskimos thriving on fat and protein in the harshest cold, and Bedouins making milk their lifeline in the blistering heat.
The lyrics are about more than just food; they speak to the wisdom of ancient cultures who adapted to their environments in ways modern society has lost touch with. It’s a powerful message against diet extremism, breaking down the idea of a “one-size-fits-all” approach to nutrition.
In the end, we’re all part of nature, and as we reclaim what’s been lost—traditional wisdom—we can heal ourselves and our world.


NO BROCCOLI FOR NOBODY (Eskimos vs. Bedouins – The Great Diet Showdown That Wasn't)
[Intro]
"Yo, they told us ‘Eat your greens!’ But what if the land ain't green?
They told us ‘Whole grains or die!’ But what if the ground ain't got no rye?
They wanna school us—but Mother Nature been teaching class since time begun!"

 (The Showdown Begins]

Eskimos step up first, flexing their Arctic survival skills:
"Ain’t no fields, just ice and snow,
No farms, no wheat, just fish and roe.
Blubber on deck, keep the heat in my chest,
Raw meat melt, we digest with no stress."
Bedouins fire back, holding it down for the desert:
"Meanwhile, down where the sand runs deep,
Ain’t no fish, no seal, no meat.
Ain’t no blubber, ain't no bone,
But God gave milk—yeah, straight from the throne!"


"Brown rice? Kale? That’s cute, but where’s it at?
Snow’s too cold, sand’s too cracked.
God gave fat where the cold winds blow,
Gave milk to the desert, fat in a flow!"
"Ain’t no ‘good,’ ain’t no ‘bad,’
Just what keeps your people fed.
Eskimos burn, Bedouins chill,
Both stay strong, no doctor’s bill!"

 (Why They Can't Swap)

Eskimos clowning Bedouins trying to survive in the Arctic:
"You sip that milk? Cute, my dude,
But you gon’ freeze in that igloo.
No dates, no kefir, ain't no cow,
So how you finna hydrate now?"
Bedouins laughing at Eskimos lost in the desert:
"You gnaw on fat? That’s cool, my guy,
But eat that here? You straight up die.
Melt like butter, slow and fried,
While I’m sipping milk and staying alive!"

:
 (Diet Dogma Gets Destroyed)

"Yo, tell the Eskimos to eat some greens,
But all they see is snow and seas!
Tell the Bedouins, ‘Protein’s a must!’
But you try eating blubber in 100 plus!"
"It ain't about 'right' or 'wrong,'
It's about where you belong.
God gave yin to the yang,
Cold needs heat, desert needs damp.
Nature ain’t stupid, but man… might be.
Selling one-size-fits-all—nah, miss me!"



(The Realization – No Showdown, Just Truth]


"We ain’t enemies—we both winning,
You got milk, I got fat, and we both grinning.
Different foods, different lands,
Different climates, different plans."
"Nature wrote the rulebook, we just follow,
Ain’t no one-size meal to swallow.
From the ice to the sand, we all adapt,
God’s design—now, chew on that!"


"So take your dogma, take your plate,
Ain’t no one-size-fits-all fate.
No brown rice, no tofu schemes,
No broccoli—nobody needs greens!"
"No broccoli for nobody."

NO BROCCOLI FOR NOBODY Eskimos vs. Bedouins

Instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
Lyrics written by Dr Mester .
Not for commercial use.

"Smoke & Mirrors: The Two-Party Hustle" is an explosive fusion of raw lyricism and bold commentary on the state of modern politics. With a mix of gritty basslines, groovy rhythms, and a punchy rap style, this track lays bare the manipulation and power games of the two-party system. Through sharp metaphors and deep insights, the song challenges listeners to see past the smoke and mirrors, exposing the truth behind the political façade. Get ready for a danceable yet thought-provoking anthem—a track that brings fire to the dance floor and a powerful message to your mind.

lyrics


"Yo, they told you that you had a choice…
Red or blue, left or right… but the house always wins."

(Beat drops – heavy, gritty boom-bap or reggae-trap fusion 🔥)
[Verse 1]

Yo, politics, the circus, the ultimate grift,
Two-party system, y’all stuck in the rift.
They conquer and divide, it’s the oldest trick,
Throw us crumbs of illusion, but the cake’s for the rich.

Conservatives conserve? Nah, that’s a façade,
Liberals liberate? Man, that’s just odd.
Both sides blind, marching to the drum,
Brainwashed masses, the kingdom of the dumb.

Enemies created, it’s all by design,
While shadow puppets pull strings from behind.
Red and blue, they ain’t nothing but hues,
Same master paints the picture, you just pick the views.

They make the fire, then sell you the hose,
A rigged game, my dude, everybody knows.
[Chorus: Smoke & Mirrors]

"Politics is for ugly folks and crooks,
Hide behind lies, never judged by their looks.
Smoke and mirrors, yeah, the joke’s on you,
They build the cage, then hand you the screw."

"They build the fire, then sell you the hose,
Promise you change, but it never unfolds.
Rich get richer, we stay broke,
They cut the deals while we inhale the smoke!"
[Verse 2]

Now the wheels are off, this bus is careening,
History erased, they out here spring-cleaning.
Scrubbing the net, rewriting the past,
Trying to make sure the truth don’t last.

But real ones see through, we storing the files,
Hard drives, flash drives, stacks in piles.
They burn the books, we Kindle the flame,
The chessboard’s rigged, but we hacking the game.

Funny how the forces resist and destroy,
Two hands of the same beast, playing coy.
They slap us down, but tides still rise,
Revolution’s coming from the blind side.

It’s all theater, man, the ultimate show,
The actors keep changing, the plot stays low.
[Chorus: Smoke & Mirrors]

"Politics is for ugly folks and crooks,
Hide behind lies, never judged by their looks.
Smoke and mirrors, yeah, the joke’s on you,
They build the cage, then hand you the screw."

"They build the fire, then sell you the hose,
Promise you change, but it never unfolds.
Rich get richer, we stay broke,
They cut the deals while we inhale the smoke!"
[Bridge: The Mask Slips] (Beat slows, eerie keys, spoken-word vibe)

Yo, conservatives conserve the lies,
Liberals liberate alibis.
One nation, under fraud,
United by the same facade.

It's a power grab, wrapped in red and blue,
But the punchline is, the joke’s on you.
[Outro: Mic Drop Moment]

They want division, we’re stronger whole,
Their biggest fear? A united soul.
So laugh at the game, expose the con,
The system’s breaking—time to move on.

Politics, yeah, it’s a dirty art,
But this ugly truth? That’s just the start.

Smoke & Mirrors_ The Two-Party Hustle

Instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
Lyrics written by Dr Mester .
Not for commercial use.

🔌 SOUNDCLOUD DESCRIPTION

🎵 "DISCONNECTED ERA"
(Prod. by The Algorithm feat. Your Lost Attention Span)

A sarcastic anthem for the chronically online.

We upgrade phones but downgrade souls,
Ghost our humans to please the scrolls,
Pay for 5G but can’t connect—
Congrats! You’re the protagonist of a Black Mirror episode.

🔥 Tags:
#DigitalDystopia #SoulOnAirplaneMode #NewPhoneWhoDis #WiFiAndTears #UnsentMessages #DoomScrollAnthem

(Lyrics in bio… if you still read those.)


 "DISCONNECTED ERA" (FULL SONG) 🎤

(A sarcastic anthem for the digital apocalypse)

📱 [HOOK] x2
Wi-Fi lit, but the soul’s on mute—
Chargin’ our phones while we drain the truth.
Back in the day, tied to the landline,
Now we scrollin’ prisons thinkin’ we fine.

🔌 [VERSE 1]
Tied to a wall, still free to roam,
Now I’m global with a leash in my dome.
Landlines buzzed, but hearts spoke clear,
Now emojis mask what we used to hear.

"Your call is important," said a human voice—
Now it’s bots, ads, algorithm choice.
Privacy’s pixel-dust, swept in a file,
We traded the wires for a tighter dial.

📶 [CHORUS]
We got five bars but zero reception,
Ghostin’ real life for digital affection.
DMs deep but the talkin’s shallow,
Profile pic fresh—but the soul’s stale, yo.

📡 [VERSE 2]
Tap, swipe, update your brain—
All your thoughts rerouted for gain.
Smartphone dumbin’, scrollin’ abyss,
Freedom’s a myth with a notification twist.

Bluetooth noose, hang by the ping,
Echoes of meaning in a TikTok swing.
Used to be grounded, now we float,
Unplugged hearts in a bandwidth boat.

💸 [VERSE 3] "UPGRADE TO OBLIVION"
We camp out for that shiny new toy,
4K tears—still can’t find joy.
Face ID unlocked, but the eyes stay blank,
Screen bright as hell—soul’s on low battery, thanks.

Ring-ring—oh shit, a human voice?
Nah, let it die—we’d rather scroll noise.
"Upgrade complete!" says the corporate god,
Now we’re all ghosts with a 5G facade.

🛸 [BRIDGE]
If the net cuts out, do you even breathe?
If the likes go black, do you still believe?
Can you talk without the thumb parade,
Or you lost in feeds your soul obeyed?

☠️ [OUTRO] (slow, distorted)
Wi-Fi lit, but we dimmed inside—
Prayin’ for bars while the self just hides.
Used to be tied, now we tethered tight...
A wire cut once now grips us right.

(…call failed…)

DISCONNECTED ERA

Instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
Lyrics written by Dr Mester .
Not for commercial use.

🔥 SOUNDCLOUD DESCRIPTION 🔥

"GENERATION SELFIE: A SARCASTIC ODE"
(Prod. by Dr Mester | Art by Dr Mester

⚠️ WARNING: This is not a song. This is a mirror held up to the digital abyss.

We live in an age where your worth is measured in pixels, your identity reduced to a pose, a filter, a swipe. Anna Uddenberg’s hollow mannequins laugh at us—we became the art.

This track is a eulogy for attention spans, a middle finger to the algorithm, and a dark comedy for anyone who’s ever faked a smile for the ’gram.

FOR FANS OF:

    Death Grips if they hated TikTok

    Bo Burnham’s "Inside" on nihilistic steroids

    Early JPEGMAFIA meets a Twitter thread gone rogue

PLAY IF:

    You’ve ever canceled plans to stay home and post about "self-care."

    Your phone screen time is your most toxic relationship.

    You know "body positivity" is just another market to exploit.

LYRICS PINNED ⬇️
(Tag #DystopianHustle #SatireCore #PostIrony)


LYRICS

"GENERATION SELFIE: A SARCASTIC ODE (10/10 CUT)"
(INTRO)

(Whispered, distorted)
"Smile for the algorithm..."
(VERSE 1)

Yo, welcome to the era of the self-obsessed,
Where the selfie stick’s the modern-day holy confess.
Chicks in yoga pants, call it "artistic expression,"
But it’s just another filter for sexual obsession.
Anna Uddenberg’s sculptures hit the core,
Mirrorin' the truth we scroll past, ignore.

Broken homes, no dads in sight,
Single moms grindin’—God left the fight.
Kids raised on screens, no aim, no direction,
Lost in the void, swipe left for affection.
Dismantle the family, turn from divine,
Now it’s all OnlyFans, pay-per-mind.
(CHORUS x2)

Strike a pose, arch that back, call it yoga,
But it’s bait for the likes—a sad kinda toga.
Men scrollin’, zombies with no ambition,
Feeding the cycle, synthetic nutrition.
(VERSE 2)

Without fathers, we get boys that don’t grow,
Mini-man NPCs, no seeds to sow.
They swipe, they scroll, they consume the tease,
Lost in the fog of digital disease.

And the ladies? Play the role they’ve been sold,
Thinkin’ self-worth’s a thigh gap and gold.
The dismantled nucleus—what a sad creation,
An entire generation raised on inflation.

Demoralized values, lost and misplaced,
A culture obsessed with image, image, face, and waist
Hate God, hate purpose, rebel with no cause,
But what fills the void? Fake love, fake laws.
(CHORUS x2)

Strike a pose, arch that back, call it yoga,
But it’s bait for the likes—a sad kinda toga.
Men scrollin’, zombies with no ambition,
Feeding the cycle, synthetic nutrition.
(BRIDGE)

This ain’t just the ladies—boys are demoralized too,
Chasing shallow fame in a world askew.
Gaming, scrolling, wasting their prime,
Trading real ambition for likes in real-time.
Society’s crumbling under this cheap facade,
Calling it freedom while worshipping the fraud.
(NEW VERSE 3)

@VanitySlays posts "awareness" between thirst traps,
Her activism’s just a merch-selling gap.
"Body positivity"—but only if you’re toned,
The rest get shadow-banned, left unknown.

And the simps? Oh, they fund the decay,
Tipping their rent money just for a "hey."
Influencer temples where souls go to flex, 
Sacrificin’ privacy for the ’gram hex.
(CHORUS x2 – SLOWER, DISTORTED)

Strike a pose... (pose...) arch that back... (back...)
But it’s bait for the likes—a heart attack.
Men scrollin’... (scrollin’...) zombies with no vision,
Feeding the cycle—terminal condition.
(OUTRO)

So here’s the truth, raw and untamed,
A world where family trees got defamed.
No fathers to guide, no mothers to teach,
Just a screen in their hands and a world out of reach.

We’re buildin’ a legacy on shallow foundations,
Lost souls scrollin’ through empty temptations.
Strike a pose, take a pic, call it art,
But deep inside—it’s tearing us apart.

(Beat cuts, then a single notification "ping")

GENERATION SELFIE A SARCASTIC ODE

Instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI., lyrics are protected under the US Copyright laws
Lyrics written by Dr Mester .
Not for commercial use.

lyrics are in here too lower.. This is a mirror for the quiet storms— for those who move like water but strike like lightning. ⚡

This track is not just music; it's a spiritual fingerprint—a battle cry for the forged souls. For those who’ve walked through fire, who’ve been scarred but stand taller because of it. This is for those who know the weight of the world but still carry their truth like a crown.

As a Chinese Water Ox with Enneagram Type 2 energy, I stand in the space between the tide and the flame, as patient as the ocean, as nurturing as fire, as unshakable as mountains. If you’re the kind of soul who gives love fiercely but freezes out betrayal, who builds bridges but burns illusions, then this anthem is your warrior’s hymn. 🌊🔥🛡️

This isn’t for the faint-hearted or the unwilling to look deep. It’s for those who can hear the echoes in the quiet, who understand the power of resilience, self-realization, and truth when everything else feels like an illusion. It’s not about shining for others or chasing fleeting crowns. This is about standing in your own sacred space and knowing you are enough, no matter the storm.

This is not about fitting in, seeking approval, or playing nice with those who want you to shrink. It’s not for the ones who refuse to look beyond the surface or for those who want everything handed to them without having earned it. This is for the warriors—those who know that the battle is within, and that true power comes from embracing the struggle and rising from it stronger. 💥

If you feel this, you’re already one of us. The rest? Let them find their way. This is for those who understand the cost of the crown—not the ones who want it handed to them, but the ones who earned it with fire. 🔥👑

To my Ox/Type 2 kin:
🌊 You know the weight of loyalty and the cost of silent strength...
🔥 You recognize when helping others becomes sacred rebellion...
⚡ You’ve felt the rage of water —slow, then unstoppable.

—This is us.

Truth is truth, no matter the tongue. But today, let the riddim speak.*

🛠️ CREDITS:

    Vibe: If Marcus Garvey and Lao Tzu produced a roots album

    Key Lyrics: "Forged in the flood" (Water Ox) / "Feed the weak — leave the wolves to whine" (Type 2)

    Sound Alchemy: 70s dub echoes, wuxia stillness, Nyabinghi heartbeat

🎧 #Tags:
#WaterOxAnthem #Enneagram2 #ReggaeTruth #SacredRebellion #QuietStormMusic

(Chorus)
Who I am? Just watch I rise
In the fire, through truth, no disguise
I don't chase crowns, don't beg no man
Forged in the flood, still I stand

(Verse 1)
Step 'way, let I chant the tone
Not just flesh — I'm more than bone
Born in the system but I break that chain
Every verse I spit, purify the pain

See, Babylon love the surface shine
But I reason deep, seek the higher sign
Dem build illusions, I move through mist
Truth like a blade — it twist when it hits

(Verse 2)
Me no drown in emotion tide
Still waters hold the rage inside
Shape the pain like a blade refined
Silent forge where the stars align

Dem call it 'soft' when I choose to heal
But deep wells quench the rebel's zeal
Type 2 love with a Oxen spine
Feed the weak — leave the wolves to whine

(Bridge)
Don't take my silence for weakness seen
I read the stars and dream between
Carry loads most man would drop
But I don't bow, I rise to the top

(Final Chorus)
It's the weight I carry, but I don't break
I plant with faith, and the harvest great
Not just riddim — this a sacred cry
For the voiceless, for I and I

So if you chant truth, then chant with I
If your heart stay clean, we rise high
But bring deceit? I sight that clear
This soul don't flinch, and it don't know fear

(Outro - whispered)
Babylon can't bind I soul...
Jah light I road...

Who I Am in Babylon.mp3

Instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
    ✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
    ⚠️ Not for commercial use.

This song was born from a blend of Hungarian and Romani (cigány) language, sprinkled with English, inspired by the fire of “Who She Be.”
It celebrates truth, power, and adaptation — where every word pulses to the rhythm of freedom and identity.

    Táncolj. Élj. Szeress.
    When reality meets reality, there are no masks — only two souls under the sky.

While Suno gave the voice, I gave the heart. Soon I’ll sing it myself — with my accent, my fire, my truth.
This is not about imitation.
This is homage. This is Earthchild music.
Borders are invitations — and I accept them dancing.


Instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI., lyrics are protected under the US Copyright laws
Lyrics written by Dr Mester .
Not for commercial use.

A magyar és cigány (roma) nyelv keverékéből, némi angol szórással született dal, a “Who She Be” ihletésére. A szöveg a valóságot, erőt és alkalmazkodást ünnepli, ahol minden szó a szabadság és önazonosság ritmusára lüktet. Táncolj, élj, szeress—mert amikor a valóság találkozik a valósággal, nincs álarc, csak két lélek az ég alatt.

[Intro]
HEY!—
„Hallod ezt, babám? Von na džanan…”
—HOPPA!
JAJJ!—
„Džanan so?”
—DIKK!
„Di-da-du, sh‑bop… avri, dikhen.
Aha… kon si la?”
Feel the beat… come, see. Who she bee!!
—OPPA!

[Verse 1]
HELLÉD!—
Si zor, si rani — na trubul korona,
Na trubul te phenen — hi yag ande kova.
—HEJJ!
Tűzzel épít, koronát nem kér,
Pillanatra se dobbant, már lángol a szív.
—CSINÁDD!
Phurdel le drom, shaj romalö la jekh sham,
Táncol a sötétben, mint éjfél tajta.
—HEY!
Szívritmus, lassú, mégis szúr,
Léptei egyenletesek — nem kér föl az ár.
—JAJJ, !! HESS!
Phenen: „Sar kerel?” — La hasarel: „Adaptivav.”
Hogy csinálja?” — „Alkalmazkodom.”
—SH-BAM!
Nem menekülés, nem pajzs —
This is raw erő, ez gravity kód.
—VIGYÁZZÁL, DIKK!

[Chorus]
HEY!—
„La na kél fame‑ra, la na khel lesko khel.
Nem kell neki dicsőség, nem játszik játékot.
—OPPA! MINEK?
HOP-HOP!—
„Hi jekh yag…”
—DIKK!
CSINÁDD!—
„Khel? Na! Drew!”
Game? Nope, csak valóság!
—JAJJ! THAT'S RIGHT!

[Verse 2]
SH-BOP!, SH-BOP, VáLTSáL!—
Me som tiro whiskey, tiro lil ande not,
Töredék a dallam, ami szívig hat.
—HOPPA!
Puzzle vagyok a rhyme‑ban,
Punchline‑ja úgy lebeg — ho‑doo‑bah!
—HELLÉD!
Mangav flash‑ot? Me som slow‑burn spark,
Kihajt a popsi odabenn — queen remark.
—HEJJ!
IGAZ! Truth!
—CSINÁDD!
Me som solid, gone — sar phantom Cadillac,
Simán suhanok, nem tekintek hátra.
—HOP-HOP!
Phenen: „Mystery si tu?” — La: „Nichi, me som kristal.”
Tiszta fényem nem rejtőzik —
Na félek a nav‑lokaltól.
—OPPA!

[Verse 3]
HEY!—
Me som talyox le ox‑e, la si yag‑e flare.
—CSINÁDD!
A flame nem könyörög — kitekeri az egeket már.
—HOP-HOP!
Si jakha ande kova drom, sar gyökeres fa,
—HELLÉD!
Gyökerek nem kérnek bocsánatot,
amikor a földet áttörik!
—HEJJ! DE NEM áM!

[Chorus]
HEY!—
Nem csak suhanna — la kerel a bar,
—HOP-HOP!
JAJJ DIKK!—
Amikor nyomás jön, me maradok állva.
—CSINÁDD!
OPPA!—
Ha a világ kételkedik, mi nem vesztjük lépést.
Duj manus, jekh drom — jekh udvar, jekh ergya.
—HEJJ!

[Outro]
SH-BOP!—
Kon si la? – E reflekt: miro tükör.
—HOP-HOP!
Nem csak társam — me sam aven drom.
—CSINÁDD!
OPPA!—
Zor pe zor, duma pe duma,
Duj lelki egyezés, egy sóhaj…
—HEJJ!
Nem csupán békém — me amen vadaskodás,
—HOPPA!
És én látom őt egészben,
sötétben… fényben.
—CSINÁDD!
HEY!—
Amikor valóság talál valósággal —
nincs álarc.
Feljövünk együtt…
alatt a végtelen éggel.
—HOPPA! JAJJ DIKK! HEJJ! HAJRÁ!

Kon Si La

GOD MODE / MONSTER CODE is a biotech horror-core manifesto. It's a Petri dish confession from a world where eugenics wears a three-piece suit and genetic editing is the new social cleanse.

This IS:
A dystopian narrative, a warning shot fired from the near future. It's raw, unfiltered rage against the machine—specifically the gene-editing machine. Think industrial hip-hop meets a haunted gospel choir in a cyberpunk cathedral. It's for those who question the cost of "perfection" and hear the ghost in the machine.

This ISN'T:
A feel-good banger. This isn't music for the gym or a party. It's not pro-science or anti-progress; it's anti-human-erasure. It’s not a solution—it’s a scream into the void before the void gets a patent on screaming.

[Title: GOD MODE / MONSTER CODE]
[Intro – Spoken, distorted voice sample]
"This ain’t fiction, it’s a Petri dish confession..."
_

GOD MODE / MONSTER CODE

🎙️ Instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
    ✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
    ⚠️ Not for commercial use.

"Clear Skies (The Reckoning)"
Genre: Reggae-rap with West Coast swagger
BPM: 90–100
Mood: Smooth knives in velvet pockets
WHAT THIS IS:
✅ A hypocrite’s autopsy set to smoked-out grooves
✅ Lyrical warfare draped in melodic basslines
✅ For creators who move while haters annotate
✅ No trap clichés — just live-band funk meets AI-age truth
WHAT THIS ISN’T:
❌ Another “look how rich I am” flex
❌ Mumble rap or TikTok bait
❌ AI worship — it’s about using tools, not losing soul
❌ For people who think “viral” means “good”


Clear Skies (The Reckoning)
[Intro]
(Texted your ghostwriter while talkin' trash...)
(Funny how the loudest critics... never check their drafts...)
[Hook]
Talkin' down, but you're watchin' me rise
Your shade can't hide from these algorithm skies
(Mm, ironic... Stay pressed...)
[Chorus]
You mock the wave but still wade in the shallow
Afraid to admit you borrowed your shadow
Style ain't taught - it's the answer they lack
So they paint their fear as a creative tax
(Autograph this L... 404 flair...)
[Verse 1]
Here's the blueprint of a hater's confession
Calls it cheating when he fails at expression
Wants my flow, but his hands stay stiff
Can't sign his work - so he forges a diss
Funny how the emptiest takes sound the same
Like a parrot in a museum, yelling at frames
(Still life... Frame that... Right click, save as...)
[Chorus]
You mock the wave but still wade in the shallow
Afraid to admit you borrowed your shadow
Style ain't taught - it's the answer they lack
So they paint their fear as a creative tax
(Gallery closed... Exit stage ego...)
[Verse 2]
Style's the answer - ask the page
Hemingway exited the coward's cage
You? You edit life, then claim it's fake
I live the lines you hesitate to make
Your voice? A footnote. Mine? The whole book
Keep debating fonts - I'm the hook, the look, the crook
(that stole the show while you took notes)
(Ghostwriter's remorse... Check the receipt...)
[Bridge]
You ran the lyrics through a bot
Just to see if you were caught -
Congrats, the code don't lie
Now ask yourself who's terrified
(Diagnosis: envy... Prescription: create...)
[Chorus]
You mock the wave but still wade in the shallow
Afraid to admit you borrowed your shadow
Style ain't taught - it's the answer they lack
So they paint their fear as a creative tax
(Signature required...)
[Outro]
So what's louder - the hand that steers
Or the mouth that just echoes and fears?
(You didn't lose the path... you refused to map it...)

clear sky reggae west coast laid back

Who She Be (Extended Nova-Reggae Swing F

Instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.
This is more than a song—it’s a ritual of rhythm and connection. Built on an Afrobeat–Afro-Reggae backbone, it blends upright bass, one-drop drums, marimba riffs, jungle textures, pan flute whispers, and a chorus that soars with layered voices and lush African percussion.

At its core, the track is about polarity: lead and follow, masculine and feminine, the current that flows when two energies meet in perfect rhythm. Inspired by dance as both art and metaphor, the song explores how true connection isn’t about rigid steps or clever moves, but about presence—listening, feeling, and moving together as one.

Every verse weaves imagery of gorillas guiding space, oracles reading signs, and the unspoken language of glances, until the outro strips it all down to the essential truth: “No music required.” Even when the instruments stop, the groove carries on in the body, the bones, the breath.

This track is an invitation: not domination, but exploration. Step in, lean back, feel the pulse—before the music has even begun.

One Drop

A track born out of satire, not revenge.
Pot Head Keyboard Warrior / Garage Philosopher is a caricature of today’s online prophets: the self-crowned kings of garages and comment sections, who preach strength while drowning in bitterness. It’s not about one man—it’s about an attitude. A mirror held up to the cult of superficial red-pill wisdom, toxic projections, and the empty noise of keyboard battles.

This is for anyone who’s tired of empty rants and fake gurus. Dark, raw, and bitter like unsweetened chocolate—served with no sugar.


[Hook / Chorus]

Pot head keyboard warrior – (say it loud!)
Garage philosopher, csak a füst marad.
Életed falak közt, rideg monológ,
Keserűbb, mint száz kávé, cukor nélkül, bro! (no sugar!)

[Verse 1 – Projection King]

Tükörben látod magad, de rám köpöd a szót,
Minden sebed rajtam landol, mintha én lennék a pót.
Te vagy a bíró, te vagy a vádló,
De a színpadod egy kanapé, meg a laptop glow. (pathetic!)

[Verse 2 – Millionaire Fantasy vs. Reality]

[Verse 2 – Millionaire Fantasy vs. Reality]

Mondod: milliókat csináltam volna – (yeah, right!)
A tizenév nulla meló, csak a smoke meg a spite.
Munkából kidobba többször is,
Te vagy az álomgyáros, csak nincs credit, nincs hit. (wake up!)

[Verse 3 – Women Obsession]

“Nem kellenek nők!” – közben minden szavad pina,
Ez nem erő, ez a seb, ami sose gyógyul, hiba.
Tizenöt év nuku érintés, “I’m strong!” – nah, weak,
Ez nem önuralom, ez száműzetés, bleak. (self-burn!)

[Verse 4 – Dog Irony]

“Kutyát vegyél, ott a tisztelet, love!” – mondod,
De te még magadat se bírod, mindenkit nyomsz a porba.
Unconditional? Az benned nulla,
A hűség a kutyádban, benned csak a gubanc, fura. (irony check!)

[Verse 5 – History Delusion]

“Királyok se térdeltek nők előtt, ha-ha!”
De a király palotában, te meg garázsba zárva.
Nem crown, nem throne, csak hamutál és füst,
A múltad egy üres beat, a jövőd full sötét, köd. (no kingdom!)

[Bridge]

Ez nem erő, ez csak maszk,
Ez nem igazság, csak trash talk flask. (mask off!)
A világ nem dől össze, mert te ráüvöltöd,
A net csak visszhang, a valóság széttép, brother. (reality check!)

[Hook / Chorus]

Pot head keyboard warrior – (say it loud!)
Garage philosopher, csak a füst marad.
Életed falak közt, rideg monológ,
Keserűbb, mint száz kávé, cukor nélkül, bro! (no sugar!)

[Outro – The Final Blow]

Nem te választottad a magányt – az választott téged,
Térkép nélkül bolyongsz, minden út véged.
A self-ironika a gerinced, csont helyett,
A saját keserűségedből főztél végzetet. (game over!)

Pot head keyboard warriors

🎙️ Instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.

A vibrant fusion where Afro swing meets deep Dancehall soul. Commanding, soulful female vocals soar over a smoky baritone harmony, weaving a tale of two strong forces aligning as one.

This is for the real ones. The builders, not the posers. The queens who know their worth without a crown and the kings who recognize that fire. It's an anthem of modern partnership, built on mutual respect and unstoppable rhythm.

The Vibe: Confident. Soulful. Unbreakable partnership. Riding with your day-one. Building legacy under open skies.

Who She Be (Lyrics)

[Hook 1 – Intro | Echo]
Who she be? Look pan di mind,
Di fire, di focus, di tings weh bind.

[Verse 1]
She a force, she a queen, no crown fi show,
No need fi prove, her fire a glow.
She nah pose fi selfie, nah full-body frame,
No duck face, no likes — she movin’ inna game.
She ride di tide, but she shape di sea,
Know when fi stand, know when fi lean pan me.

[Verse 2]
Mi di cool inna yuh bop, di jive inna yuh groove,
Di kitten wid claws when di scene start move.
Yuh want flash? Mi di slow-burn spark,
Grace pon lock wid a bite inna di bark.
Mi cherry cola kiss wid di knowin’ glance,
Soft pon di step, but mi lead di dance.

[Hook 2 – Echo]
She nah need di fame, she nah play di game,
A queen wid no crown, still di same.

[Verse 3]
Mi di slick inna yuh slide, di mood inna yuh blues,
Di truth inna di room when dem sell fake news.
Mi nah shrink fi soothe yuh pride,
But mi walk wid yuh — side by side.
Mi bring calm when yuh world ignite,
Mi warm yuh hand inna di coldest night.

[Bridge 1 – Playful Call & Response]
Yuh dig mi steady? It’s di real McCoy,
No cornball act — mi destroy wid joy.
“…Destroy wid joy!”

[Verse 4]
Mi di ox inna di yoke, she di fire inna di flare,
Mi hold it down, she light up di air.
Mi di pull inna di grind, she di spark inna di glide,
Mi move di load, she move wid pride.
She nah mi echo — she mi flame,
Mi see har whole — light an’ dark — an’ speak har name.

[Hook 3 – Together]
Di kind weh nah just ride — she build.
When di pressure rise, mi stay still.
If di world doubt, we nah break pace,
We walk fi we path, but match inna grace.

[Verse 5]
Mi di storm, di hush, an’ di fire,
A queen fi mi own right, nah tire.
Mi build di frame, mi nah chase di stage,
Legacy deep inna every page.
Mi see tru di fake — mi nah pretend,
Solid an’ true — mi nah break, mi bend.

[Verse 6]
She step strong, nah fold,
A force a har own — heart pure an’ bold.
She nah need di noise, or lights fi shine,
She know har worth — carve inna time.
If she stand by me, it nah defense —
It rhythm an’ bond. It consequence.

[Bridge 2 – Harmony Build]
She know when fi rise an’ when fi rest.
Silence speak louder dan di rest.
Nah shadow, nah shield — she di flame.
Mi nah her owner — just proud a har name.

[Final Hook / Outro – Full Harmony]
Who she be — a mirror to me.
Nah just partner — mi destiny.
Strength to strength, mind to mind,
Two forces meet, two souls aligned.
Nah just him peace — mi part a di fight.
An’ mi see har whole — inna light an’ night.
When real meet real, no disguise —
We rise as one... under open skies.


Who She Be Patois

🎙️ Instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.

La versione italiana ad alta energia di "Who She Be". / The high-octane Italian version of "Who She Be".

Get ready for the sun-drenched, street-party version of "Chi È Lei"! We've rebuilt the track from the ground up with a punchy four-on-the-floor disco beat, a slapping bassline, and funky accordion riffs that drive the groove.

This is Italian funk-rap at its most energetic. Playful, traded rap-sing vocals bounce over a backdrop of Clavinet stabs, tamburello flair, and crowd chants. It’s cocky, it's fun, and it's built purely for the dancefloor. Forget the drama—this is pure, unadulterated festival energy.

L'atmosfera: Festa di strada, estate italiana, energia da palco, ritmo contagioso, orgoglio, ballare fino al tramonto.

Chi È Lei

🎙️ Instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.

“Where G-funk swagger collides with 1950s swing jazz—two photons flirt through rap, upright bass walks, and cosmic groove. Not just music, a bioluminescent transmission-cellular vibration.”


What it is:

A biophotonic love-rap opera, where neuroscience meets funk-hip-hop swagger.

Vintage swing jazz walking upright basslines colliding with modern rap cadences.

Equal parts sexy, nerdy, and metaphysical.

A track that will have dancers two-stepping while philosophers stroke their chins.

What it is NOT:

A basic trap loop you’ve heard a thousand times.

Background noise for gym bros.

Your grandma’s swing record (unless she was secretly on mushrooms).

A TED Talk about mitochondria, though it flirts dangerously close.

[INTRO – Photon A (Female, flirty) – 4 Bars]
Hey bright boy, where you headed now?
Photon B (Male):
Just got bounced off collagen — still holdin’ my vow.
Photon A:
I just zipped through pineal, caught a glimpse of the crown—
Golden like mitochondria when the voltage’s sound.

\[VERSE 1 – Photon B – 8 Bars]
I be the flash that ride nerve tracks slick,
Syncin’ heartbeats to rhythm, photonic and quick.
You talk radiant—yeah, girl, I see the spark,
But I carry cellular plans like I’m Light in the Dark.

Just buzzed thru fascia, did a lymphatic slide,
Tuned every T-cell like a DJ with pride.
And while you vibin' through glands like a backstage pass,
I update every strand—DNA gets my class.

\[CHORUS – Both – 8 Bars]
Aye, aye—who shine brighter?
Two photons, but one igniter.
Ping-pongin' through this temple wide,
Left-right lobe with a quantum glide.

From brainstem buzz to skin so sweet,
We bounce through fields where soul and flesh meet.
No lone light wins, it’s co-creation,
Biophoton flirtation, cellular vibration.

\[VERSE 2 – Photon A – 8 Bars]
Boy, I’m the flame in your synapse leap,
I whisper codes while your melatonin sleep.
I jazz the gut with a dopamin’ kiss,
And when stress rise up—I harmonize the abyss.

You emit raw, but I sculpt in tone,
Reflect intentions in the peptide zone.
I’m chi, I’m shakti, I’m the yin in your spark—
Glowin’ even when the aura goes dark.

\[BRIDGE – Both – 4 Bars Call & Response]
Photon B:
But tell me this, can you phase like I do?
Photon A:
Please, I polarize *twice* before you even shine through.
Photon B:
Respect—truth is, you light my flow.
Photon A:
And I curve with grace, through every bio-glow.

\[VERSE 3 – Photon B – 8 Bars]
From third eye pulses to the big toe bend,
I carry thoughts you ain't ready to send.
Bounce me wrong? I decohere wild,
But align me right—I beam like a child.

In trauma’s crypt I lose my hum,
But give me Bach and greens? I start to strum.
Jah food makes me whole, refined kills my tone,
I’m light turned loose—or I’m dimmed to bone.

\[CHORUS 2 – Both – 8 Bars]
So here we glow, twin pulses bright,
Spittin’ waveforms deep into the night.
Not lover nor fighter, but coded design,
Each flash divine, in coherent line.

You reflect, I transmit, both got grace,
Same speed, same force, different face.
No throne, no fight, no solo fame—
We orbit truth in Jah light’s name.

\[OUTRO – Both – 4 Bars, Spoken + Whispered Layer]
Photon A:
So next time they chase light in a wire,
Photon B:
Remind 'em we *talk* through bones, not just fire.
Both:
This ain’t just glow—it’s the whole transmission:
Two photons, one mission—divine precision.

Flirtatious Biophotons

"Disclaimer:“
This track is pure satire wrapped in funk and groove. It’s not an endorsement, not advice, not a personal attack—it’s social commentary set to basslines and rhythm. ‘The Cycle Spins’ calls out the patterns we all see but rarely say out loud, turning truth into something you can nod your head to.

Mention of brand names (like AmEx) is for parody/commentary only. This track is not affiliated, endorsed, or sponsored by any company, brand, or product. It’s art, it’s music, it’s satire.”
🎙️ Instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.


Title: The Cycle Spins

[Chorus / Hook]
🎵 

[Verse 1 – Glow-Up Years]

🎵 Eighteen, crown of lip gloss, queen of the 'gram (shiny, shiny)
Selfie palace, ring light is her spotlit stand (bling, bling)
Mirror never lies, Instagram her bible
Swipe left, swipe right, the game’s survival (swipe, swipe)

Kool guys flash smiles, leased cars, rented charm (vroom, vroom)
She’s laughing at jokes, ignoring the alarm (ha-ha)
“Independent,” she says, but really she just plays
A game of collecting dinners, collecting praise (uh-huh)

Likes stack higher than her student debt
Beauty’s her currency, that's her only bet (check it)
Every emoji, every phrase, a coded call
“Spoil me, adore me, catch me if I fall” (ayy, ayy) 🎵

[Verse 2 – Kool Guys & CC Life]

🎵 Bubbly nights, trips she didn't book (pop, pop)
“Adventurous” means a guy fronted what it took (yeah, yeah)
Thoughtful gestures, yeah, that’s the sign
Buy me Prada, Prosecco, make it mine (skrrt, skrrt)
"Hey girl, lemme buy you a pair of boobs" (ooh, ooh)
Another upgrade for the catalog of moves (skrrt, skrrt)

Brought to you by other men’s AMEX
Luxury living, leaving zero checks (woo!)
She’s laughing, snapping, posing for the 'gram
Every new guy just another sham (hey!)

Swipe, match, another weekend blown
Every souvenir says, “Look what I own!” (look, look)
She’s living the highlight reel, reality on mute
Playing life for the loot, the absolute loot (ayy) 🎵

[Verse 3 – Baby Daddy Bonanza]

🎵 Oops, level one, Baby Daddy unlocked (uh-oh)
Diapers and drama, her foundation’s rocked (yeah, yeah)
Level two, another swipe, another surprise
Chaos stacking up right before her eyes (stack it, stack it)



The Cycle Spin

🎙️ Instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.

Dedication
This track is a funky, dystopian tribute to the courage of Dr. Árpád Pusztai, the Hungarian biochemist who risked everything in 1998 to warn the world about the dangers of genetically modified foods. His silenced research is the bedrock this anthem is built on.

BILLY  BOY GATES THE FARM [P-Funk Dystopian Anthem] 

Ever seen a scarecrow play god with your groceries? Step right up to the franken-farm.

This ain't just a song; it's a warning from the soil. A P-Funk parable for the end times, channeling the ghosts of George Clinton and Bootsy Collins through a neural network. We're laying down a filthy bassline against the dystopian drip of patented rain and chemclouds.

It's the story of a farm boy who sold his soul for a seed patent and now guards the gate to the food supply like a dragon on a golden hoard of corn. This is music for the soil, for the seeds, and for the fight back to real food.

What This Is & Is Not (The Vibe):

THIS IS:

    A protest anthem wrapped in a 70s funk nightmare.

    A tribute to dissident science and ancestral wisdom.

    A piece of speculative fiction, built on a foundation of fact.

    Made to make you move, then make you think.

THIS IS NOT:

    A literal biography.

    Financial, medical, or legal advice.

    Created or endorsed by any real-world individuals or corporations.

    For the closed-minded or the faint of heart.

Billy Gates The Farm

🎙️ Instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.

This piece grew from my written dialogue “The Missing Link in Touch: An Interview with Master Ox.” What started as words turned into sound — hand drums, deep toms, strings — moving slowly, primal, almost trance-like. It is not “background music.” It is not soft spa fluff. It’s a study in presence, in the weight of fingertips, in the truth that every hesitation in touch mirrors the hesitation within.

This is for listeners who want to feel more than they analyze, who are willing to sit with rhythm until it becomes breath. It’s for those who know silence carries more weight than noise.

What it is: a primal meditation on connection, intimacy, and unfinished gestures.
What it is not: a blissed-out wallpaper track.

Read the full article behind this track here: https://www.boiseremedycenter.com/blog/fingertips-vs-palms-the-subtle-barrier



The Missing Link in Touch

🎙️ Instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.

WHAT IT IS:
A cosmic Saturday night fever dream. A space-funk groove so saturated with 70s disco-fusion it moves your feet while the lyrics rewire your mind. This is the sound of taking your power back, of finding your mission's rhythm, of treating a ghosting not as a loss, but as a promotion to the dance floor.

WHAT IT IS NOT:
Another sad-boy anthem. A bitter rant. A slow, introspective track.

She ghosted? Good. Let the Indifference Coin become your disco ball.

Based on the viral philosophy, this track breaks down the game over a hypnotic, Funkadelic-inspired groove:

    Her past is a crystal ball. (Patterns never lie over a four-on-the-floor kick.)

    It's not about you. It's about her attention span. (Cue the wah-wah guitar.)

    Ghosting is a lazy exit. (But this bassline is anything but lazy.)

So take the lesson. Let the intel set you free. Rub the coin in your pocket to the beat, and move on without skipping a step.

Press play. The mission has a new soundtrack.

Indifference Coin

instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.WHAT THIS IS:

This is your new funk-fueled reality check. "Shallow End" is a head-nodding, bass-driven groove that gets your feet moving while it dissects the soul-crushing farce of fake teamwork and silent envy. It’s for anyone who’s ever sat through a forced team-building event, gotten a glowing review that was hidden from the group chat, and thought, "This is all a beautiful lie." It’s polished 70s funk with a razor-sharp, cynical edge.

THE VIBE IS:

    That undeniable, Quincy Jones-style production—deep sliding bass, crisp chicken-scratch guitar, and punchy horns.

    A danceable rhythm that makes you sway, even as the lyrics lay bare the truth.

    The contrast of smooth, soulful harmonies on the chorus against clear, rhythmic, truth-telling rap on the verses.

    A slow-burning, heavy funk groove—this isn't frantic, it's deliberate and powerful.

WHAT THIS IS NOT:

    This is NOT a feel-good, mindless party track.

    This is NOT another song about superficial motivation.

    This is NOT whining. This is observation, sharpened into a weapon and set to a monster groove.

If you've ever felt like an island in a sea of forced high-fives, this is your anthem. Press play, nod your head, move your stinky feet and see your own reflection in the shallow end pedaling.

SHALLOW END -The Team Lie

ITALIAN VERSION

instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.WHAT THIS IS:

This is your new groove-fueled reality check. "Acque Basse" (Shallow End) is a head-nodding, bass-gorgeous jam that gets your feet moving while it dissects the soul-crushing farce of fake teamwork and silent envy. It’s for anyone who’s ever sat through a forced team-building event, gotten a glowing review that was hidden from the group chat, and thought, "This is all a beautiful lie." It’s the smooth, easy groove of 70s disco meets the laid-back pulse of one-drop reggae, all with a razor-sharp, cynical edge.

THE VIBE IS:

    That undeniable, Saturday Night Fever-era Bee Gees melody meets a Toots & The Maytals rhythm section—a gorgeous, melodic bass line, crisp guitars, and soulful harmonies.

    A danceable, swaying rhythm anchored by a classic one-drop reggae beat that makes your head nod instinctively.

    The contrast of smooth, soulful harmonies on the chorus against clear, rhythmic, truth-telling vocals on the verses.

    A cool, infectious groove—this isn't frantic; it's smooth, powerful, and impossibly catchy.

WHAT THIS IS NOT:

    This is NOT a feel-good, mindless party track.

    This is NOT another song about superficial motivation.

    This is NOT whining. This is observation, sharpened into a weapon and set to a monster groove.

If you've ever felt like an island in a sea of forced high-fives, this is your anthem. Press play, nod your head, move your feet, and see your own reflection pedaling in the shallow end.

(This is the Italian vocal version. An English funk-disco fusion version is also available on my profile.)daling.

SHALLOW END (The Team Lie) italian

instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.

BLOOD OF KINGS

A groovy rebellion. This is a call to wake up, detox the lies, and remember the fire that runs in your veins. Built on a foundation of roots reggae riddims pulse.

It’s a danceable groove with a fighting spirit. You can move to it, you can sing to it, you can feel it.

What It Is: A melodic call to action. A reclaiming of strength. A fusion of soulful rhythms and raw truth.

What It Is Not: A hateful rant. A generic workout track. A polished, soulless pop song.

Blood of Kings

https://www.boiseremedycenter.com/blog/the-psychology-behind-my-who-i-am-song

instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.

This song is for the ones who give until they break—and then rebuild sharper. A forged soul in motion: empathy with boundaries, loyalty with claws. It’s the sound of a heart that’s been used like an engine, tuned through heartbreak and quiet evolution.

Forged in the push-pull of Type 2 sensitivity and Ox endurance, this track carries the pulse of those who serve, protect, and finally learn to protect themselves too. It’s soul, funk, and reflection rolled into one—baritone warmth, disco light, and the grit of someone who’s done shadow work with a rhythm section.

The groove is kitchen-floor honest: no filters, no glitter, just truth that moves.

What it is:
A grounded soul anthem for the strong-but-tired, the caretakers who found their spine, the calm eye inside their own storm. A dance of boundaries and compassion—Barry White meets inner alchemy.

What it is not:
Not a cry for attention. Not ego in disguise. Not plastic, no  bullshit - “self-love” slogans or radio fluff. This is real growth with a groove.

Who I Am

https://www.boiseremedycenter.com/blog/the-psychology-behind-my-who-i-am-song
instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.

Ki vagyok én --(Enneagram 2 – Ökör szív ötvözet)

Leírás:
Ez a dal azoknak szól, akik addig adtak, míg majdnem elfogytak — aztán újraépítették magukat, élesebben, tisztábban. Egy mozgásban lévő, megkovácsolt lélek: együttérzés határokkal, hűség karmokkal. Ez a szív hangja, amit motor módjára használtak, és amit a fájdalom újrahangolt.

A Type 2 érzékenység és az Ökör kitartás elegyéből született. Ez a dal azoké, akik szolgálnak, védenek, és végül megtanulják magukat is megvédeni. Lélek, funk és önismeret egyben – bariton melegség, diszkófény, és a belső árnyékmunka ritmusa.

A groove olyan, mint az élet a konyhapadlón: szűretlen, őszinte, mozduló igazság.

Mi ez:
Egy földhözragadt soul himnusz a fáradt erőseknek. Azoknak, akik adnak, de már tudják, mikor kell nemet mondani. Egy tánc az egyensúly és az együttérzés között – mintha Barry White a léleksebészeten járt volna.

Mi nem ez:
Nem segélykérés. Nem ego mutatvány. Nem műanyag „önszeretet” szlogen. Ez valódi fejlődés, valódi groove-val.

Ki Vagyok En

"Social Theater Hotline (1-800-LIKEME)" grew out of my article “The Unspoken Rules of Social Performance, 
at:  https://www.boiseremedycenter.com/blog/the-10-minute-theater-why-people-oxst-each-other-upon-meeting Mirroring, and the Games We Play to Be Seen.”

The song turns that idea inside out: a hotline to our collective performance anxiety. It’s about the endless choreography of being “real” in public — and how we mirror each other’s masks until we forget who started the lie. But beneath the satire sits something quieter: we perform because we’re afraid to be truly seen. The first eyes we flinch from aren’t the crowd’s — they’re our own.

It’s self-conscious pop for the terminally self-aware — an anthem for everyone who’s ever edited their truth mid-sentence.

The First 10 Minutes of BS

instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.

For everyone who ever wept to Tupac’s Dear Mama — this is her answer.
A mother’s voice rising from memory and metal bars, reaching for her son through time, through pain, through love that never learned how to quit.

What it is: A raw, soulful confession from a mother to her son, 2Pac — a prayer, a letter, and a heartbeat wrapped in one.” The reply the world never heard. A prayer in rhythm. A confession dressed in grace. A hand pressed to glass that still believes the other side can feel it.

What it is not:
It’s not about blame, not about saving anyone. It’s about SEEING someone ; your child, your mother, when the world already turned away.

For everyone locked away in concrete and silence, there’s still somebody who believes in you. A mother who never stopped. A heart that still knows your name.

(West Coast cinematic soul-hop — emotional, reverent, truthful. Inspired by Tupac Shakur’s “Dear Mama.”)

Dear Son (A Mother’s Reply to 2Pac)

Link to my blog, where I break down the song:
https://www.boiseremedycenter.com/blog/the-anatomists-song-dissecting-the-10000-year-old-lie

🎙️ Instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.

A roots-rock reggae arrangement (one-drop rhythm, heavy bass, crisp off-beats) that channels the pulse of survival, revolt and the machine of empire.

Marvin Harris's 'Cannibals and Kings' revealed a foundational lie: civilization wasn't built on cooperation, but on a protein monopoly. As kings and priests consolidated power, they propagated a new social order—one where the many were fed a diet of grains and ideologies of "isms", while the few reserved the nutrient-dense, satiating meat for themselves.

This song is the soundtrack to that betrayal. From the first irrigation ditch that choked a river to the "contracts on the street" that replaced physical chains, we trace the evolution of this cannibalistic system. It's in the way love was outsourced to the army, how faith was sold by the priest, and how we now kneel before a surplus we're told is scarce.

This is for everyone who's ever felt the weight of the chain and wondered where it came from. The feast is still going on. The question is, are you at the table, or are you on it?

THIS IS:
•	A sonic indictment of the first class system, built on a stomach-level betrayal.
•	The unwritten history of your last meal, tracing the line from the first granary to the modern contract.
•	A lyrical bloodstain on the marble floors of the palace, exposing the bones it's built on.
•	For everyone who knows the system is cannibalistic and is tired of being told it's a feast.
THIS AIN'T:
•	A vague, poetic lament about "the system." This is surgical.
•	A call for a return to some romanticized "primitive" past. This is about understanding the trap so we can break out of it.
•	Background music for studying. This is a demand to pay attention.
•	Hopecore. This is a warning from the gutters beneath the throne.

The Garden Turned Machine



Link to my blog, where I break down the song:
www.boiseremedycenter.com/blog/the-ana…year-old-lie

(The English version is below with same cover art)

🎙️ Instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.

A roots-rock reggae arrangement (one-drop rhythm, heavy bass, crisp off-beats) that channels the pulse of survival, revolt and the machine of empire.

Marvin Harris's 'Cannibals and Kings' revealed a foundational lie: civilization wasn't built on cooperation, but on a protein monopoly. As kings and priests consolidated power, they propagated a new social order—one where the many were fed a diet of grains and ideologies of "isms", while the few reserved the nutrient-dense, satiating meat for themselves.

This song is the soundtrack to that betrayal. From the first irrigation ditch that choked a river to the "contracts on the street" that replaced physical chains, we trace the evolution of this cannibalistic system. It's in the way love was outsourced to the army, how faith was sold by the priest, and how we now kneel before a surplus we're told is scarce.

This is for everyone who's ever felt the weight of the chain and wondered where it came from. The feast is still going on. The question is, are you at the table, or are you on it?

THIS IS:
• A sonic indictment of the first class system, built on a stomach-level betrayal.
• The unwritten history of your last meal, tracing the line from the first granary to the modern contract.
• A lyrical bloodstain on the marble floors of the palace, exposing the bones it's built on.
• For everyone who knows the system is cannibalistic and is tired of being told it's a feast.
THIS AIN'T:
• A vague, poetic lament about "the system." This is surgical.
• A call for a return to some romanticized "primitive" past. This is about understanding the trap so we can break out of it.
• Background music for studying. This is a demand to pay attention.
• Hopecore. This is a warning from the gutters beneath the throne.


The Garden Turned Machine (ITALIA)

a welcome song for Laura with a skill of fire cupping. please visit her. 

Welcome On Board, Laura

instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.

TWIN FLAMES: COSMIC BS DETECTOR
A funkadelic–disco roast built from my article on the twin-flame belief system:
https://www.boiseremedycenter.com/blog/twin-flames-talk

Twin Flame BS Detector

NOT HERE TO TRADE HOLLOW FOLLOW FOR FOLLOW NOR NEED LIKES OR ANY PROPOSAL, TY!

"Naturopath by profession, rhythm-maker by passion. Exploring the deep connections between ancestral wisdom, nutrition, and sound. Funk-infused truths, anything from  fermented beets to delicious raw beats, and messages that challenge the norm."

Dr Mester Funk

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