Młody Béla - - - Zajebałem Wiadro

Welcome to Pland - doubleS x p3 ft 730huncho

EATING - SUKIHANA

sukihana - COCAINE

Yo… They call it democracy, But it’s just a beauty pageant for power. A popularity contest dressed as leadership, Where charisma beats competence, And the future gets mortgaged to the next election cycle.

Every few years, they roll the dice, Spin the slogans, sell the lies. Film stars, TV clowns in suits, Campaign smiles in polished boots.

Votes over vision, spin over skill, Policy flips with the latest thrill. Blame the last guy, dodge the heat, While the same elite still eat.

The system’s cracked — fragmented core, Self-antagonistic, built for war. No long-term plan, no cultured growth, Just imperial plunder to feed them both.

Common folk starve or join the fight, No jobs, no hope, just war at night. The elite get rich, the poor get culled, And call it “policy” — power lulled.

But yo, this madhouse can’t make the leap, To the space age where stakes run deep. In orbit, you can’t play the same old game, 'Cause every life’s tied to the station’s name.

If you treat workers like ground-based trash, Expect sabotage, expect the crash. Space demands a moral spine, Not quarterly profit as the bottom line.

Now look East — the Dragon’s rise, No campaign circus, no tabloid lies. Confucian merit, decades served, Leaders earned, not just observed.

From local posts to provincial reign, Years of grind before the gain. Competence first, rhetoric last, Planning for futures, not just the past.

No smear campaigns, no bought applause, Just service bound by civic laws. Long-term vision, steady hand, Building the base before the brand.

Results matter, not the show, Leaders who’ve learned how systems grow. A structure built to last the storm, Not bend to polls or voter swarm.

So when we talk about space-bound trade, Only one model makes the grade. A moral helm, a steady crew, Leaders who know what they’re here to do.

The West still wrestles over dirt, Cowboy politics, short-term hurt. While the Dragon climbs beyond the sky, Old round eyes still asking why.

Yo… Charisma won’t keep the air clean in orbit. Spin won’t grow food on Mars. And cowboy politics won’t hold a station together When the void is one crack away.

Only competence survives the vacuum. Only vision builds the future. And only those who plan for centuries Will live to see the stars.

Charismatic Conundrum

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vkie - 120 WERSÓW ŻEBY ZAJE*AĆ CO WASZE (Hoodtrap Remix) @pro100wleb

cheatz - czm chcialbym umrzec w moim benz

cheatz - czm chce umrzec w moim benz

A suspenseful boom-bap rap track about being hunted by your past, stalked through the night, and forced to stay one step ahead. The atmosphere is oppressive and cold, but the narrator adapts, strategizes, and gains control. By the end, the hunter becomes the hunted. A psychological thriller in rap form, stealthy, gritty, and cinematic.

No Riser (Prod. No One)

No One (& friends) - Demos

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