BRYAN CRANSTON is scmoozing desperately to work his way into The Festival Project Mc_bulldogsny Or again Miami Going to a party Looking like salami I mean, I wanna MEAT ya! Thank you God, I needed a Sauna, Or a Psalm— I guess I got all of ‘em Stuck in a song When the door of opportunity opens up, there's no such thing as tomorrow at all. Timestamp. Oh my god! What the fuck is that!? Oh my ago! It's a Pigaloo!! A PigaLoo?! Yeah h aww, come here! (She

Maybe it's a secret weapon Maybe it's a blessing Maybe it's a lesson Maybe It's a curse Maybe it's the way I'm supposed to learn, I'm guessing Maybe's only make It worse, Take this day with a grain of salt, A lemon slice I promise you, I'll make it nice This is my purpose here: I Was sent To love you, so Suffer your feelings unto Me (Empathy) Maybe it's the sunrise Maybe it's a surprise Maybe it's my disguise I don't know Maybe it's some that place I should go I love my

Arturo's keyboard mini lab MkII Hurt me so good Baby daddy Make me wanna scream Don't you know I love it Roller coaster Hands around my throat You choke me. Throw me off my boat I'm drowning in your ocean W Love me love me (Moans) Living in grace, In your glory In the shadow of your talents And the glamor of your essence, Whatever that is. I should just Sell that bitch She work hard Slave so strong, baby I should just Sell that bitch Have me a picnic Take her to market

The coughing had stopped for awhile but had suddenly returned, as if I had done something wrong—but it only seemed that the more I paid attention to myself and my health, improving my life and my habits, this energy followed, as if trying to keep or return me to the Hell from which I had been born, raised, and married into— only to overcome by luck if anything, albeit strength and wit; the cycle of abuse was still the ever present cycle—and the more I read about the psychological

“Maybe I should just kill myself” I laid restfully to one side of the chest press machine, almost unconscious— I had tried to work away the pain and sorrow, but it was no use; I had failed the test of time, of course, leaving too late after scurryingvfir the case managers to sign off a metro pass— to ensure that I would never be trapped in the city or ticketed again, which I had been respectively numerous times, and the latter twice—I now iwed the city $209 in fines

{Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

Show me something I can believe! Tell me something good— You got it I don't wanna live your lies, Give me vices— Give me time The same device What's yours is mine What's yours is mine What's yours is mine Woah, I've got to go Put my my head on ice The same device What's yours is mine What's yours is mine The colonizers fight to hide What will be seen in time What's mine is yours, Is yours is mine {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT ©

Sell my soul, for what? I need money up front Not no $20 bill on the floor at Equinox Apartment on the top floor, Looking down at sports club “Good Morning Manhattan,” Said the batter— “Are you happy?” Are you flat and sloppy? Stop McDonald's on your way to All the way out of options? I'm just popping the question And you're just poppin a Xany, Cal it insanity But outta ACID I just listen to trance and fast for a second Pick up right where I stopped off the

"Fame Is Imminent" {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

I felt horrible beyond een my own comprehension, but it had been seemingly ages at all since I had heard a song upon first listen that actually intrigued me, let alone that I liked– and, not that it seemed to matter, as I was still trapped behind the seemingly endless ad-wall that had become the ultra-competitive industry, and though it seemed like nobody was really making money in music besides those amongst the elite and now even their children, there didn't seem a foreseeable chance at all,

S Ū pA c R E e has been in a coma, and through very limited states of consciousness, has only woken merely to speak the word “Skrillex” — after waking to appear to have a totally normal conversation, after the star is flown to Alaska by a secret organization * ahem lol— in an attempt to wake the sleeping poet from her deep, deep...coma, Supacree falls back into her coma, triggering a series of apocalyptic extra terrestrial phenomena, which leaves the world asking for

I quickly promised myself an entire slice of New York style cheese pizza on the day that it would be announced to the world that Dillon Francis was married—or getting married. I knew it would be made public, rather than done quietly—he was a man of high status and regard, and not one to elope. Lessons in love, v3, Kaskade Shazam? Oh, I got it, it's KASKADE it is I GODDAMNIT, KASKADE, GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE. KASKADE I WILL NOT. Ugh Ugh. Ughhhhhhhh UGH!

“Always be on time—especially in New York.” The words rang around in my head like a lesson— a lesson I had learned in high school, coming from theatre. “If you're not 15 minutes early, you're late.” I regurgitated--something I honestly had stood by in all my years with it— my high school theatre teacher, Andy, probably my favorite teacher ever, if not a close second to my middle school English teacher, Mrs. Davis, or even a tie for first, since they

Thank god It's like a storm is passed I gotta keep it up I would never touch another man If I could front the cost All on my own No wonder ma and pa Gotta open up shops It's a long long long way up huh Took a long long long long walk in the park 2 boroughs I crossed Just to be remarkable Ok! I got Dillon Francis. That's a pigeon. Well, yeah—he's a pigeon. Wow! He's a pigeon! Yeah! Pigeons are fast! How'd you catch him? Well, he's a New York pigeon, so he's fat.

I wasn't ready for Equinox at the Hudson yards— which I should have known simply by my prior exclusions alone, but at the very least still had to try it ‘You know what? Fuck it. I'm gonna hop on tinder later and find myself a motherfucker who looks JUST LIKE Dillon Francis…shouldn't be hard' His doppelgängers were well — everywhere, anyway, and I was. growing more and more tortured in my own body and soul each and every day, and especially now — my hair was

Humbled from entitlement Ashamed of my own displacement I'm on a tear I'm on a tangeant I was just here. But where have I been Most this year has passed And I'm still here, I still don't get it A divine circumstance Souls— So long, So gone, Almost The time has come to walk The time has come again to rise, Rise up The time has come to walk, come on The time that's come is ours, From now on Give me time to walk, An. Hour or so A trot, the fox Time to run An hour or nothing

Better to not dream in color; The better to see you with my dear– I still think about coming over Suddenly, the water's clear And the tide's getting higher It's harder to hide here The heart of the Martyr Is still calling out for her; The sound of her laugher Alarms for the alters And all coming after her Neither or Neither The worse of the wiser Hither or higher, The wish of the Water As it rises And they all lived Ever after Ever after You're a very dead man, mister

Check the hat and glasses; Yeap, That's a bampheramph laughin at you Not with you Highly unusual and peculiar, sure Dad hats: the lowest level of bampheramph— These bamphers show you what not to do, how not to act, and just how not to be in general After bampheramph camp, the graduates are ranked by performance —typically— “bad” “very bad” or “what the fuck”, and very rarely even “what the fuck, dude” or “I don't

I can't fall for this again— Another rich and handsome man— A dream he wants to be my friend A dream he wants to hold my hand Oh look, Another dance for anthem Look, I'm just another fan No, I can't fall for this again —but they would go against the plan A simple programming error, Lips the color of a pomagranite Circle on the palm, And then , of course, We press the center And look, here we are again Another life, Another love A new wife— Another husband

SUNNI BLU: BALLS BPM: really doe Sample first four bars, pitch down The black Batman doesn't exist. Because The Illuminati would never allow a black man to be THAT rich. Supacree defeated the black Batman in battle before he was acknowledged into existence. Sunni BLU is the richest black man in the world and becomes the black Batman in the new franchise– Great. Now the KKK is going to try to lynch me. I don't know why, but I feel like crying— And on the way