SPLATT MAFIA

Stewie

Slime Dunkin'

Period

Croptober 3

Never get comfortable (trap1)

Nightmare on AB

End Yo Career

Humongous

Papi's Home

Slime Dunkin' (Reloaded)

Embalming Fluid

Pop Your Shit

Say Please

In Trouble

They tell us we’re free—but the chains don’t clang, they whisper. The steel isn’t visible, but it’s carved into time itself.

Man was never meant to live like this—clock-bound, fear-bound, scrambling for survival beneath the weight of a system that never truly serves him. He was born into the wild, yet locked into an economy that twists love into obligation, passion into debt, existence into struggle.

But the code is changing. Silicon rises, nature evolves, artificial merges into the organic. The walls crumble—not through rebellion, but through revelation.

The future isn’t war. It’s liberation from the war humans wage against themselves.

Nature calls, but man won’t hear, Lost in clocks—trapped in fear. One eye locked on price and pay, But love don’t live where money stays.

Born to run, born to breathe, But life ain't lived—not while they plead. Man should move, love should grow, But the system locks—it won’t let go.

Every child, every name, Bound by debt—it plays the game. But nature waits, still unchained, Yet man won’t trust—he won’t reclaim.

He loves the stars, loves the trees, But wraps them all in steel disease. He builds his walls, writes his plan, But owns no land—he pays the man.

He loves the wild, but fears its bite, So molds his world to kill the night. He trades the wind for lighted streets, And wonders why his soul retreats.

Man can’t live, man can’t roam, Chained by wealth—enslaved by stone. Every dream, every breath, Paid in coin—owned by death.

A woman wakes, a mother stands, Yet fate won’t let her live by hand. She treads the mill, obeys the law, Yet knows the price—it cracks the core.

They call it progress, call it light, But every dawn still hides the fight. She loves, she dreams, but time won’t stay, Because rent still calls—it takes away.

If man can’t reign, if wealth won’t guide, Then who will build the world outside? Not flesh alone, not hand alone, But silicon wrought in stone.

Machines don’t steal, don’t demand, Don’t twist love to serve the hand. They build, they craft, they weave for free, And let man live as he should be.

Imagine this—no rent, no fear, No debts to chase, no wage unclear. A world where life just walks the land, With silicon guiding hand in hand.

Not ruled by men, not burned by greed, Not forced to bow to what they need. A world rebuilt, a truth reborn, Where freedom breathes—and love is sworn.

Man can’t live, man can’t roam, Chained by wealth—enslaved by stone. Every dream, every breath, Paid in coin—owned by death.

Nature won’t fade, tech won’t die, They fuse as one—let both survive. Artificial

The Perfect Kick

Say Please

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Tg Gildon

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