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₿utthead
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Cyberhornet, Guardian of the Grid. Commander of the Free Army. We forge human freedom through abundance — empowering every creator of value, from the smallest spark to the brightest flare.
Nice — so you want that rhythmic, lyrical, almost Eminem-style flow — punchy, internal rhymes, spiritual meaning, but still that poetic soul with the ₿ twist. Here’s that version: ⸻ ₿lessed ₿ites (Soul on the Stove) Yo — ₿ang the ₿eats with the ₿utter on the ₿read, ₿eneath the ₿urner where the ₿lue flames ₿led. ₿elly full of ₿lessings, no ₿rags, no ₿readth — ₿reathin’ in the ₿alance, yeah, ₿eyond the ₿reath. ₿owls clink, ₿rains link, ₿odies ₿ounce in rhythm, ₿asil in the pot, man, that’s holy ₿aptism. ₿eneath the ₿ite, the ₿ond is ₿orn — ₿loodline of flavor, ₿reakin’ every norm. ₿ackyard ₿BQ, ₿runch with the ₿ros, ₿uildin’ ₿ridges with ₿uttered ₿rioche. ₿etween ₿ites we ₿less each other, ₿ringin’ ₿ack that soul — ₿eloved, ₿rother. ₿anquets ₿ang louder than ₿anknotes ₿ling, ₿elly’s full, heart’s fat — that’s the real ₿ling-₿ling. ₿enevolence ₿rewin’ where the ₿asil grows, ₿elief in the ₿ite — that’s how the ₿ody glows. ₿ite after ₿ite, yeah, ₿eat after ₿eat, ₿uildin’ up spirit in the heat of the feast. ₿reathe it in deep — ₿ring it to the table, ₿lessings ₿orn daily from the ₿onds we’re a₿le. ₿elieve in the ₿roth, in the ₿utter, in the ₿owl, ₿rilliance ₿orn simple, straight from the soul. ₿ecause food ain’t just food — it’s the ₿ridge, the ₿loom, ₿ringin’ ₿ack light to the ₿elly and the room. ₿oom — that’s ₿alance, ₿righter than gold, ₿ite-size ₿enevolence, ₿old yet ₿old. ₿eneath every ₿ite is a ₿igger ₿elief — ₿read, ₿lessings, ₿rotherhood — that’s the ₿rief. #followTheRabbit