@remixrapfars

tatal x bahram x sorena x khalvat x sadegh

Morphine 3 ( Remix By Mtz Beatz )

sorena & hichkas & putak & maslak & shayea & ho3ein & danyal & pishro

sorena & hichkas & putak & maslak & shayea & ho3ein & danyal & pishro - Gheshae.mp3

Dele man havato karde Remix

جا مانده است
چیزی ، جایی 
دگر هیچ چیز 

۱۷ سال گذشت از اون موقع که باهم نفس کشیدیم
یادته،میگفتی هیچوقت از پیشم نمیری
حالا که تو اون زیری و ماما من بالای خاک
میدونی،خیلی کمن خاطره هات
توسرم هی میگذره چیزای محو
اصن نمیدونم خاطرن یا ساخته مغز
مهم نبوده برام هیچ موقع درستیشون
فقط خداروشکر میکنم دارمشون
یادته همش سرت درد میگرفت بودی بی تاب
میدادن دستت یه قرص و بعدش بگیر بخواب
۳ ساله بودم بی کمک راه میرفتم روی پام
کمسو بود چشات،صندلی چرخردارم پات
نم نمک موهاتم نیست و شدی سبک تو
هی شدی بیشتر اذیت
منم اتاق بغل میکردم شبمو صبح
همش با گریه در این حد
خوابیدی بیمارستان و خونه سرد تر از قبل
حالا تو شدی دورتر خب ازم
منم که بچه بودم دور از تو پر از ترس
میشدم خوردتر خب از قبل
۲ سال مابقی هم طی شد همینجوری
روز به روز کشیدیم فقط درد
خدایا نمیخوای این کابوسو تموم کنی
ببرش خب اقلا

جا مانده‌است ، چیزی ، جایی
که هیچگاه دگر هیچ چیز ، جایش را پر نخواهد کرد

۱۷ سال گذشت از اون موقع که من دیگه ندیدمت
تمرکز رو گزاشتم بشم قوی تر هی 
گاهی اوقات خو دل منم میشه تنگت
عکساتو نگا میکنم میبوسمت
میدونم میبینمت اون بالا تو اوج کوه
با خدا نشستی ۲ تا فنجون رو به نور 
میخندی خوشحالی حالت شده خوب خوب
بهت قول میدم میام پیشت زود زود 
میام بغلت میکنم با این دل پر
تا که شاید خالی شه دلم بعد به عمر
ماما تو باید حالت خوب باشه
برات دعا میخونم که ازت بلا دور باشه
الانم نزدیک ۲۳ ام قد کشیدم
همه ی غلطامو کردم و دست کشیدم
میدونم خیلی جاها بوده وقت و بی وقت
دور خودم میچرخیدمو دست روی دست میزاشتم
نمیکردم کاری من واسه هیچ کس 
خودمو گم کرده بودم توی داستانی پست 
و یهو نگام افتاد و شدم غرق باتلاق
پاشدم تروتمیز کردم رفتم رو به افتاب 
خداروشاکرم هنو سرحال و سرپام
دیگه هیجوره نمیزنم زیرقولام
ماما همیشه خواستم باشه خنده رو لبات
از این دنیا میده پسرت دست تکون برات

با چشمانم که تنها یادگار کودکی من اند
آیا مادرم مرا باز خواهد شناخت

Mama - Single

Mama

Khalaa 2

Hiphopologist - Ghors

remix_sorena&khalse&khalvat&pishro&putak_feragh

Orbit 1 I lace fractal frequencies, folding filament syntax
Quantum in the cadence, dual states under my syntax
Wave in the whisper, particle when the kick slaps
Measure renders meaning, I collapse and then riff back
Multisyllabic vectors curve, carving invariant tracts
Cognitive circuits click, clocking spike-timing impacts
Phase-locked loops in lungs, meter mapping the synapse
Symmetry in consonants, vowels surf like a syntax

Orbit 2 I braid nine orbits tight, feedback framing the thesis
Control law in the chorus, damping chaos to pieces
Observer in the pocket, I bias priors to clean this
Kalman in the couplets, noise fades and the mean hits
Topology of motives, motifs spiral in helix
Alliterative gravity drags bars into deep pits
Assonance as an ether, air vibrates where the beat sits
Polyrhythmic overlay, five against your neat grids

Orbit 3 My schema is a schema of schemas, nested recursion
Neuroarchitecture echoes, columns fire in immersion
Columnar microcircuits align to bar dispersion
Gamma binds the features while theta sets the version
Glia clear the channel so signals keep their excursion
Homeostatic balance keeps amplitude from subversion
Predictive coding listening for mismatch and diversion
Error turns to learning, I pivot with each inversion

Orbit 4 I map a city of symbols with streets of stochastic rules
Bayesian boulevards bend truth’s probabilistic tools
Sociopolitical pressure flows through hydraulic pools
Power seeks a gradient, feedback fashions the schools
Actuator is policy, sensor is public mood
Controllers sit in chambers, tuning rhetoric’s food
Oscillation of narratives, limit cycles renewed
Stability is costly when fairness is overdue

Orbit 5 Gene circuits hum in time with the kick and the snare
Transcription in the stanza, translation under the snare
Ribosomes of rhythm assemble meaning from air
Promoters are the prompts, enhancers flicker and glare
Epigenetic memories, marks on measures I wear
Methyl fold of a metaphor, chromatin open and bare
Selection is the crowd, fitness peaks in the glare
Drift in culture’s alleles, rare variants I declare

Orbit 6 I quantize breath to quanta, discrete packets of phrase
Fock space for the phonemes, occupation arrays
Hamiltonian of hunger, I minimize through the maze
Lagrange craft for constraints, optimize in the blaze
Renormalize the jargon, cancel divergences raised
Gauge freedom in my framing, choose potentials I phrase
No-signalling in discourse, I won’t violate phase
Entangle distant meanings, then separate with praise

Orbit 7 My AI bones are tensors, weights welded like rails
Manifolds of understanding unfold in hidden veils
Jacobian of judgments adjusts when data hails
Backprop takes the blame and reduces prior fails
Curriculum of conflict, hard samples, sharper nails
Sparse codes carve the clutter, attention trims the tails
Safety is a Lyapunov, distance to brittle trails
I keep a margin positive, steer away from the gales

Orbit 8 I stage a systems opera, cues queued by causal graphs
DAGs direct the drama, edges tilt moral paths
Intervene, don’t just watch; counterfactual math
Do-calculus cuts confounders that camouflage wrath
Fairness is constraint, Pareto front in its bath
Cost surfaces are rugged; we climb with careful craft
Mechanism before myth; if the story is chaff
I prune it with Occam, then audit every draft

Orbit 9 Return to first conditions, recursion seals the ring
Every ninth I refract it, bring the origin’s spring
I sample from the prior of purpose while I sing
Posterior gets sharper, truth tightens like a string
Breath lines up with tempo, neurons fire in a sling
Meaning rides on rhythm, not the crown but the wing
I write for testable claims, not the glitter of fling
Signal over spectacle; that’s the measurable king



CosmoHKAK - triplet grid

Golden Ratio

“Requiem for a Flawed Capitalism” is a ciphered indictment — a funeral verse for a system that promised freedom but delivered exhaustion. It’s not just a critique of capitalism’s excesses; it’s a requiem because the damage is already done, and the mourning is overdue.
Here’s the architecture behind the lyric:
Conceptual Spine is based on W.E Du Bois’s warning — “The slave went free; stood a brief moment in the sun…” — becomes the opening wound.
That “moment” is reframed as a false dawn, where emancipation mutated into wage servitude, and the plantation became the platform.
Central Metaphor: The Spin Cycle
Old stains: slavery, colonialism, racial capitalism
New detergents: democracy, meritocracy, “equal opportunity”
Fresh cycles: gig economy, debt peonage, algorithmic bias
Fabric softener: diversity optics, corporate inclusion, sanitized history The metaphor exposes how exploitation is rebranded, not removed — the drum keeps spinning, and we tumble again.
Visual and Emotional Tone
Urban decay, discarded tech, fog-drenched skylines — the imagery reflects a world where capital has outlived its conscience.
The lyric doesn’t beg for reform — it architects rupture, naming the mechanisms and refusing the soft lies.
Cipher Rap × Funeral Cadence
The delivery is Nas-style: poetic, militant, reflective.
It’s not just a rap — it’s a requiem, a eulogy for a system that never mourned its victims.
The chant:
Why It Resonates
Because it doesn’t just name the problem — it exposes the architecture, flips the optics, and demands clarity. It’s not nostalgia. It’s not reform. It’s a ciphered reckoning.

tatal x bahram x sorena x khalvat x sadegh

ShadOw

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