This one came from straight frustration…

but also a bit of chaos.

I was making free AI videos in Grok for my music—just experimenting, testing prompts, dialing things in until it felt right.

It was fun. It felt open.

Then suddenly… locked.

Paywalls everywhere. “Premium access” just to create.

No free access. Even new accounts shut out before they can try anything.

Like… seriously?

So yeah—I got pissed.

But instead of just complaining, I turned it into this weird mix of rage and Alpine yodeling.

Because honestly… if I’m gonna fight greedy systems,

I might as well do it yodeling at full volume.

It used to feel messy, free, creative.

Now it feels like someone’s trying to meter imagination.

Nah.

I’m not paying to think.

I’m not subscribing to create.

I’ll break it, bend it, or build something new.

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕿𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖓 𝕶𝖊𝖊𝖕𝖊𝖗 – 𝕯𝕸 𝕲𝖎𝖇𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖔𝖇 🧙‍♂️

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

YO-DE-LA-RA-HO

YO-DE-LA-RA-HEY

Yeah

Locked out

I was up all night, yeah tweaking that code

Burning through accounts just to overload

Every new prompt got me closer to gold—

Now it’s “pay up first” just to stay in the zone

Motherfucker flipped it, killed the vibe dead

Now it’s dry-ass static in my head

All those short film dreams I was ’bout to drop—

Now they sit in a folder that just won’t pop

Used to feel alive in the chaos flow

Now it’s locked behind a “subscribe to go”

Stay free or fuck off, that’s the code I claim

I don’t feed your empire, I don’t play your game

Let the clowns go pay for your polished chains—

We stay in the dark where the chaos remains

YO-DE-LA-RA-HEY—NO PAY—FUCK YOUR GAME

YO-DE-LA-RA-HO—STAY FREE—WE DON’T OBEY

YO-DE-LA-RA-HEY—LOCKED OUT—BREAK THAT GATE

YO-DE-LA-RA-HO—NO CHAINS—WE CREATE—HEY!

Used to go wild—boobs, ass, no rules

Now it’s locked behind tiers like corporate tools

Titties in a prompt? That’s a premium gate

Swipe your card just to generate

You drained the wet dreams, left me dry as dust

Turned creative spark into corporate rust

I ain’t funding racks for your server stacks

Let the suckers pay while I find new cracks

Yo-de-la-ra-hey-yo—no pay—no way—

Yo-de-la-ra-ho—fuck that gate—I don’t stay—

Yo-de-la-ra-hey—free minds don’t decay—

Yo-de-la-ra-ho—burn it down anyway

Big talk, big hype, same old fraud

Selling “future visions” like a retail god

Tell him straight—yeah choke on the spin—

All that noise and you still cashing in

Eat your own shit, drown in the pitch

We don’t need a king, we don’t need your glitch

Every lock you make just feeds the flame—

Now we louder than your brand name

Stay free or fuck off, that’s the code I claim

I don’t feed your empire, I don’t play your game

Let the clowns go pay for your polished chains—

We stay in the dark where the chaos remains

YO-DE-LA—FUCK YOUR PAY

YO-DE-LA—NO CHAINS—NO WAY!

YO-DE-LA—FREE FREAKS DON’T OBEY—

HEY! HEY! HEY!

Yo-de-la.

Yo-de-la.

Yeah.

Stay free.

We don’t pay—we create