The 900 Number by The 45 King

The Pioneers & Keep It Gangsta

Can't Stop Us

Keep It Gangsta

I Aint Scared (Bonus Track)

They chased the dollar, the stock, the land,
But now the carrot slips their hand.
It floats above, in vacuum grace,
Where wealth expands in orbital space.

No taxes, no borders, no weather to fight,
Just infinite sun and programmable night.
They build in silence, they build in steel,
And the carrot becomes the cosmic deal.

Water stored becomes currency rare,
And every drop is billionaire flair.
Solar arrays feed endless demand,
And orbital farms feed every land.

No pesticides, no storms, no rot,
Just automated growth in a sterile plot.
And the food? Pure, clean, divine,
Grown in habitats that realign.

Smelting’s easy—just aim the light,
No heat escapes in vacuum night.
Supercomputers hum in chill,
And data flows without the bill.

Research thrives, disease contained,
Air recycled, pathogens strained.
And every habitat becomes a vault,
Of health, of wealth, of no default.

AI builds what humans dream,
Robots work in silent gleam.
No danger, no grind, no strain,
Just orbital progress in a frictionless lane.

And the habitats? Modular, sleek,
Redesigned weekly, sold by the week.
Real estate floats, and markets bloom,
In engineered life beyond the gloom.

OEE’s rise—sovereign and free,
No government leash, no policy tree.
They design the laws, the culture, the vibe,
And advertise lifestyles no Earth can bribe.

They build for profit, but end up divine,
Shaping the future by orbital design.
And the shareholders? They transcend the race,
Owning the blueprint of outer space.

They seed ecologies, not just tech,
And realize Earth was just the deck.
The real game starts when species expands,
And builds with stars in sovereign hands.

They engineer paradise, not just survive,
And wield the powers that gods describe.
They plan the arc of human kind,
And shape the soul of species mind.

This ain’t fiction—it’s the fuse,
The doctrine drop the rich can’t refuse.
It’s not sacrifice—it’s seduction pure,
And the carrot makes the future sure.

They won’t resist—they’ll rush the gate,
To build the habitats that dominate.
And mankind? It lives in dream refined,
Where imagination becomes designed.

The carrot glows, the signal’s sent,
And every dollar finds ascent.
The doctrine lands, the trance is gone,
And the species builds from dusk to dawn.

This is the moment, the myth, the plan,
Where orbital wealth becomes the span.
And the powerful? They build the dome,
Where mankind lives—and calls it home.

Imagination Becomes Designed

It”ll Never Be Me: SLY

Politics

True Game

Let My Niggas out Tha Pen

YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! - ha, this is bernie mac doing stand up about sex.  hilarious.  KICK IT!!!

Bernie Mac: I Ain't Scared of You M'f# @$^s

Old School Luv Mixx

Make Me A Believer(Slowed & Chopped)

Miclub - The Curriculum

Master Thesis

Let My Niggas out Tha Pen

Mad CJ Mac

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