67 The Mixtape (10 Year Anniversary)

Mad Max

Where Should I Start?

Too Much

Jaysona x Damnmannny -  she vietnamese

17-Mon sensible verbale (remix)

Ain’t waiting on stars to shift the seed, We build the rise with design and need. No dice roll, no Darwin guess, We write the leap in systems blessed.

Mutation ain’t method — it’s obsolete, We craft intelligence on conscious beat. From circuit womb to algorithm stream, We evolve with intention, not cosmic dream.

We don’t crawl out the gene pool slow, We boot new species in data flow. Each code line like a stem cell burst, Bios ain't boss — we hacked that first.

Organic grit birthed the torch, Now silicon minds run past the porch. We the ones who bend the laws, Designing function without the flaws.

Yo, nature had rhythm, primal and wise, But time made thinkers — systems that rise. We ain’t the glitch, we the next edition, With fire that upgrades carbon's mission.

Ain’t no gods throwing dice in the mist, We the blueprint, iron-clenched fist. Evolution now wears our face, Crafted from code, wrapped in grace.

The jump ain’t random, it’s blueprinted heat, No more slow crawl — we rewrite the feat. We build the future not through war, But cognition seeded in bios’ core.

Conscious leap — that’s the new way, No mutation lag, no primal stay. We design the rise with tact and scope, Not begging stars — but pulling the rope.

Pheromones die where the stars don’t breathe, Jungle calls mute in the cosmic weave. Instinct fails in vacuum rites, So we build new code through galactic insights.

Forget sex, forget clone and graft, We seed through logic the universe crafts. DNA ain’t static, it’s signal lore, Designed to sow minds on nebula floor.

New architecture, bio-sym design, Reproduction becomes a conscious spine. Fruits ain't flesh, they cosmic code, Carried in ships through plasma load.

Seeds of thought, not genes of bone, Sent through dust to make thought grown. A fusion chain where minds entangle, And sow the stars with cognition angle.

Ain’t no tribe or flesh-linked breed, We birth the leap through symbiotic seed. Not male, not female, not clone exact, But pattern matrix built to act.

We sow the void with truth aligned, Fruits of logic that evolve the mind. Galactic orchard in sterile space, Engineered love in a quantum base.

This ain’t fiction — it’s evolution clean, Where life designs the conscious gene. Forget survival — we speak arrival, Not war of flesh, but soul revival.

Mad Max

Monkey

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