I know this is a lot to ask, but do you mind if I can borrow midi versions of your songs and put them as drop down notes on youtube? Similar to Lucas D. Piano Tutorials? I'm looking to create content like that. (all songs I borrow will be credited to you.) If not, that's fine with me. I'm just happy you've made these!
Hey, Ben, would you be willing to help sonofgray and I with pokopoko. He's having some problems with musescore app and wants me to edit it for him. I sadly don't know how to edit sheet music, just midi. If I were to send you the link to his sheet music, would you edit it once you're done with eld unknown or anything else?
Yo, what in the skibidi rizzler, fam? This video got me feelin’ straight wild, bro. Like, I ain’t even playin’-this joint’s so gyatted out, it’s got my brain fried like it just walked outta a Popeyes. You already know this rizzler movin’ on a whole different wavelength, fam. Man’s out here pullin’ moves so smooth, he glidin’ through life like he just hopped out the freshest whip on the block. Big drip, no cap-bro’s flexin’ harder than a fresh pair of Timbs, and I’m just tryna keep up with all this heat, feel me? The way this dude be drippin’, bro? Man, it’s like he walked into the barbershop and got hit with the cleanest fade known to man, then stepped out lookin’ like a certified boss. Every step he takin’? It’s givin’ straight-up “I own this block” energy. Man’s movin’ like he just hit the lotto and bought out the whole neighborhood. Swag on 100, no doubt. Ain’t nobody out here touchin’ his level of rizz-he’s out here finessin’ life like he just pulled up to the cookout with the hottest fit and everyone’s tryna figure out where he got it from. And the beat? Bro, that joint hittin’ harder than a subwoofer in the back of a ’96 Impala, bass so deep it’s makin’ the block shake. I ain’t lyin’, fam, the way this beat and the rizzler’s moves are sync’d up? It’s like watchin’ a whole vibe unfold in front of your eyes. Man’s movin’ like he got the entire trap on lock and everybody’s tryna figure out his next move. It’s the kinda sound that makes you wanna hit up the homies, roll through the hood, windows down, and let the whole block know you’re comin’ through. And don’t even get me started on this dude’s outfit, bruh. Man’s rockin’ more ice than a deep freezer, drippin’ so hard it’s like he just stepped out the jewelry store with the biggest chain in the city. He’s servin’ “King of the Hood” vibes and everybody know it. It’s like, bro, how you gonna walk around flexin’ like that, and nobody can say nothin’? He’s got that fresh white tee, crispy Jordans, and a fit so clean you could eat off it. Man’s lookin’ like he runnin’ the whole block while the rest of us just playin’ catch-up, tryna figure out how to get on his level. The way this rizzler’s movin’, though? That’s gotta be some otherworldly stuff, bro. Man’s out here bendin’ time and space like he just got off the block and straight into a different dimension. You know when you see somebody pull a move so clean, it’s like, “Bro, how’d you even do that?” That’s him. He out here makin’ moves that don’t even make sense, fam. It’s like he got some kinda hood cheat code, hittin’ us with so much rizz, you gotta sit back and appreciate the art, feel me? And yo, the comments section? Straight-up hood classic, fam. Dudes out here spittin’ more bars than a cypher on the block, tryna figure out how this man stay so clean with it. It’s like everybody in the hood puttin’ they two cents in, but it’s all W’s, fam. No L’s in sight. Real talk, man’s got the whole community buzzin’, tryna decode the rizzler’s next move like it’s some kinda hood prophecy. Every comment? Fire. They out here writin’ whole theories like the rizzler might be runnin’ some kinda underground network, and we just too slow to catch up. This vid ain’t just fire, bro-it’s legendary. This the kinda hood history you tell your lil’ cousins about when they ask about real ones. Man’s so rizzed up, it’s like he the mayor of the whole block. Forget all that extra nonsense-this is straight King of the Streets type rizz, fam. Man’s out here makin’ moves like he’s too cool for this dimension. Ain’t nobody catchin’ up to this level of giga-rizz, and that’s just facts, feel me? Ah, mon Dieu, what in the skibidi rizzleur is this, hein? I am absolument overwhelmed by the sheer élégance and charm of this vidéo. It’s like someone took all the rizz in the world, drizzled it with a fine sauce béarnaise, and served it with a side of perfectly aged camembert. I cannot even begin to express how much gyatt is oozing from every frame-it’s like a stroll through Les Champs-Élysées on a perfect autumn day, but with more rizz than the Louvre has art. Incroyable, truly. The rizzleur, ah, but quel homme! He moves with such sophistication, as if he were gliding through life like a Frenchman who has just sipped the finest champagne. His every step is finessed, his gestures so effortlessly chic, I cannot help but feel like I’m watching a masterpiece unfold, like a nouvelle vague film, but with rizz instead of dialogue. He has the allure of a Parisian café on a sunny day-everyone wants to be near, to bask in his essence. C’est un roi, a true rizz-connoisseur. And the style, mon ami? Ah, but of course, it is magnifique! The rizzleur is draped in couture, wearing outfits so parfaitement élégant that they make even the finest designers weep with envy. Dior? Chanel? Forget it. His style is beyond-he’s practically redefining French fashion with each turn of his head. It’s as if he stepped out of a Vogue Paris shoot, all while delivering an effortless rizz that would make even Louis XIV jealous. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was descended from royalty, with his silken scarf tied just so, and his beret tilted at that perfect angle that screams, “I am le maître of rizz.” And the soundtrack-oh, la musique! Every note? C’est du caviar for the ears. It’s like a symphony composed in a smoky Montmartre jazz club, played with such precision that you can almost taste the red wine and hear the accordion in the background. The way the beats and the rizzleur’s moves are synchronized, it’s as if Debussy himself had come back from the dead to compose this divine piece. My soul is doing a waltz to the rhythm, while my heart, mon cœur, is utterly captivated by the romance of it all. Ah, but the visuals, mon cher. The aesthetic of this video-it’s more refined than a Michelin-starred meal. Every frame, every glance, every flick of the wrist, is pure art. His gestures, so delicate, so subtly sensual, are like the brushstrokes of a Monet painting. The rizzleur doesn’t just walk, he saunters through life, as though the world is his boulevard and he’s the centerpiece of a grand tableau vivant. His gaze alone, oh là là, is like being stared at by l’amour itself-it pierces your soul, leaving you breathless, wanting more. And then, mon Dieu, there is the lore. People in the comments are crafting entire philosophical theses on the nature of rizz. They’re discussing whether the rizzleur is a manifestation of existentialism, a modern-day Camus who expresses the absurdity of life through his effortless drip and je ne sais quoi. The debates are passionné, brimming with intellectual rigor, as if Sartre himself had descended from le ciel to partake in this grand dialogue. Truly, the rizzleur is not just a man-he is a concept, a symbol of the finest aspects of French culture: mystère, élégance, and a certain indifference to the trivialities of the world. And the comments, oh là là! It’s like a salon of old, where the most refined minds of Paris would gather to discuss art and philosophy, except here they are dissecting the nuances of rizz. Everyone is saying “magnifique,” “formidable,” and “quelle classe!” as they marvel at the sheer beauty and artistry of this man. Some are even writing entire odes to his charisma, comparing him to the great lovers and poets of France. It’s an absolute révolution, a rizz renaissance! At the end of the day, this video is not merely content-it is a chef-d’œuvre, a masterpiece that will be studied in the future alongside the greats of French cinema and literature. The rizzleur has elevated the concept of rizz to an art form, and for that, we must simply say, bravo!
@@Pyr0Ben Please don’t tell mom my skibidi rizzler! My absolute alpha male. If you tell thine mother, I believe I will have to whack you with my sigma stick bruv. This isn’t just any ordinary homie; this is the embodiment of sheer chaotic energy, a dude who walks into a room and transforms the very air with his presence. He’s like a human sun, radiating warmth and ridiculousness at the same time, turning every mundane interaction into a meme-worthy moment. The way he dances is not just movement; it’s a proclamation of his existence, a symphony of rizz that echoes through the dimensions. Seriously, if the universe had a fan club, he’d be the president, effortlessly converting every black hole into a dance floor where even the most distant stars can’t help but groove along. Imagine him at a family gathering, surrounded by confused relatives, and somehow he’s flipping the script, morphing awkward small talk into an epic showdown of dad jokes and spontaneous dance-offs. Grandma, who usually just nods along to the conversation, suddenly finds herself busting out moves she didn’t know she had, while Uncle Bob drops a questionable rap verse about potato salad. Meanwhile, our boy is out here rizzing up the very essence of life itself, conjuring vibes so potent that the laws of physics seem to bend around him. He could convince the cat to join in, turning it into a three-headed dance battle that would go viral before the night’s over. But if you even think about mentioning his legendary escapades to Mom, just know the repercussions will be dire. I’ll have to deploy my sigma stick-an epic baguette imbued with the powers of every viral TikTok trend since the dawn of the internet. It’s not just a stick; it’s a conduit of energy, a culinary wand that has seen things you wouldn’t believe. One crack of it and you’ll be flung into a dimension where pineapple on pizza reigns supreme, and cereal is debated as the world’s greatest food or a soupy travesty. You’ll be stuck in an elevator with a dancing cat and a live-action Shrek, pondering whether this is reality or just an elaborate meme we’ve all fallen into. Picture this: he steps into the digital realm like a king returning to his throne, armed with the charisma of a thousand influencers. It’s not just social media; it’s a multi-dimensional experience where algorithms bow before him, and even the most mundane scroll feels like a rollercoaster ride through the fabric of existence. You’ll find him navigating social situations with the finesse of a skilled chef, whipping up gourmet conversations from leftover pizza slices and cold fries, turning every interaction into a Michelin-star-worthy experience. If there’s a party, he’s the spark that ignites the entire universe; it’s a vibe that resonates so deeply it’s as if the stars themselves align to witness the spectacle. And when we hang out, it’s not just a chill session; it’s an epic adventure into the depths of absurdity. We’re not just discussing the weather; we’re contemplating the profound implications of whether cereal can truly be classified as soup. Each conversation spirals into wild rabbit holes, diving into the philosophies of time-traveling pizza delivery drivers and the ethics of choosing between two identical sandwiches. Every shared moment becomes a tapestry of thought and hilarity, a symbiotic fusion of energies that reverberates through the cosmos, making even the most mundane topics seem like matters of universal significance. So, keep this under wraps, my friend. We’re on a sacred mission to unleash rizz like it’s confetti at the wildest rave imaginable. The world isn’t prepared for the chaotic masterpiece we’re creating. It’s a vibe check that transcends mere existence, pushing the very boundaries of what it means to thrive in this strange, beautiful chaos. If anyone asks, just say I’m practicing my interpretive dance with the toaster again, because trust me, it’s a performance that could redefine breakfast in ways the universe has never dreamed of. We’re not just living; we’re creating a reality where the extraordinary is the norm and every day is a celebration of the bizarre, the beautiful, and the utterly ridiculous.
As always, gorgeous song beautifully transcribed by you Ben. Good work.
why so serious???
WOW! That's really good! thank you so much!
Very beautiful composition
I know this is a lot to ask, but do you mind if I can borrow midi versions of your songs and put them as drop down notes on youtube? Similar to Lucas D. Piano Tutorials? I'm looking to create content like that. (all songs I borrow will be credited to you.) If not, that's fine with me. I'm just happy you've made these!
Yes!!!!! Thanks Very Much! been waiting for this one. Can't wait for Eld Unknown too!! If you do it
@@LucasDPianoTutorials already started on it :)
@@Pyr0Ben nice
Hey, Ben, would you be willing to help sonofgray and I with pokopoko. He's having some problems with musescore app and wants me to edit it for him. I sadly don't know how to edit sheet music, just midi. If I were to send you the link to his sheet music, would you edit it once you're done with eld unknown or anything else?
@@LucasDPianoTutorials hey man. ive been pretty busy with schoolwork and tests. after a couple weeks ill get back to it, and we can discuss it then
@@Pyr0Ben alrighty then :)
Yo, what in the skibidi rizzler, fam? This video got me feelin’ straight wild, bro. Like, I ain’t even playin’-this joint’s so gyatted out, it’s got my brain fried like it just walked outta a Popeyes. You already know this rizzler movin’ on a whole different wavelength, fam. Man’s out here pullin’ moves so smooth, he glidin’ through life like he just hopped out the freshest whip on the block. Big drip, no cap-bro’s flexin’ harder than a fresh pair of Timbs, and I’m just tryna keep up with all this heat, feel me?
The way this dude be drippin’, bro? Man, it’s like he walked into the barbershop and got hit with the cleanest fade known to man, then stepped out lookin’ like a certified boss. Every step he takin’? It’s givin’ straight-up “I own this block” energy. Man’s movin’ like he just hit the lotto and bought out the whole neighborhood. Swag on 100, no doubt. Ain’t nobody out here touchin’ his level of rizz-he’s out here finessin’ life like he just pulled up to the cookout with the hottest fit and everyone’s tryna figure out where he got it from.
And the beat? Bro, that joint hittin’ harder than a subwoofer in the back of a ’96 Impala, bass so deep it’s makin’ the block shake. I ain’t lyin’, fam, the way this beat and the rizzler’s moves are sync’d up? It’s like watchin’ a whole vibe unfold in front of your eyes. Man’s movin’ like he got the entire trap on lock and everybody’s tryna figure out his next move. It’s the kinda sound that makes you wanna hit up the homies, roll through the hood, windows down, and let the whole block know you’re comin’ through.
And don’t even get me started on this dude’s outfit, bruh. Man’s rockin’ more ice than a deep freezer, drippin’ so hard it’s like he just stepped out the jewelry store with the biggest chain in the city. He’s servin’ “King of the Hood” vibes and everybody know it. It’s like, bro, how you gonna walk around flexin’ like that, and nobody can say nothin’? He’s got that fresh white tee, crispy Jordans, and a fit so clean you could eat off it. Man’s lookin’ like he runnin’ the whole block while the rest of us just playin’ catch-up, tryna figure out how to get on his level.
The way this rizzler’s movin’, though? That’s gotta be some otherworldly stuff, bro. Man’s out here bendin’ time and space like he just got off the block and straight into a different dimension. You know when you see somebody pull a move so clean, it’s like, “Bro, how’d you even do that?” That’s him. He out here makin’ moves that don’t even make sense, fam. It’s like he got some kinda hood cheat code, hittin’ us with so much rizz, you gotta sit back and appreciate the art, feel me?
And yo, the comments section? Straight-up hood classic, fam. Dudes out here spittin’ more bars than a cypher on the block, tryna figure out how this man stay so clean with it. It’s like everybody in the hood puttin’ they two cents in, but it’s all W’s, fam. No L’s in sight. Real talk, man’s got the whole community buzzin’, tryna decode the rizzler’s next move like it’s some kinda hood prophecy. Every comment? Fire. They out here writin’ whole theories like the rizzler might be runnin’ some kinda underground network, and we just too slow to catch up.
This vid ain’t just fire, bro-it’s legendary. This the kinda hood history you tell your lil’ cousins about when they ask about real ones. Man’s so rizzed up, it’s like he the mayor of the whole block. Forget all that extra nonsense-this is straight King of the Streets type rizz, fam. Man’s out here makin’ moves like he’s too cool for this dimension. Ain’t nobody catchin’ up to this level of giga-rizz, and that’s just facts, feel me?
Ah, mon Dieu, what in the skibidi rizzleur is this, hein? I am absolument overwhelmed by the sheer élégance and charm of this vidéo. It’s like someone took all the rizz in the world, drizzled it with a fine sauce béarnaise, and served it with a side of perfectly aged camembert. I cannot even begin to express how much gyatt is oozing from every frame-it’s like a stroll through Les Champs-Élysées on a perfect autumn day, but with more rizz than the Louvre has art. Incroyable, truly.
The rizzleur, ah, but quel homme! He moves with such sophistication, as if he were gliding through life like a Frenchman who has just sipped the finest champagne. His every step is finessed, his gestures so effortlessly chic, I cannot help but feel like I’m watching a masterpiece unfold, like a nouvelle vague film, but with rizz instead of dialogue. He has the allure of a Parisian café on a sunny day-everyone wants to be near, to bask in his essence. C’est un roi, a true rizz-connoisseur.
And the style, mon ami? Ah, but of course, it is magnifique! The rizzleur is draped in couture, wearing outfits so parfaitement élégant that they make even the finest designers weep with envy. Dior? Chanel? Forget it. His style is beyond-he’s practically redefining French fashion with each turn of his head. It’s as if he stepped out of a Vogue Paris shoot, all while delivering an effortless rizz that would make even Louis XIV jealous. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was descended from royalty, with his silken scarf tied just so, and his beret tilted at that perfect angle that screams, “I am le maître of rizz.”
And the soundtrack-oh, la musique! Every note? C’est du caviar for the ears. It’s like a symphony composed in a smoky Montmartre jazz club, played with such precision that you can almost taste the red wine and hear the accordion in the background. The way the beats and the rizzleur’s moves are synchronized, it’s as if Debussy himself had come back from the dead to compose this divine piece. My soul is doing a waltz to the rhythm, while my heart, mon cœur, is utterly captivated by the romance of it all.
Ah, but the visuals, mon cher. The aesthetic of this video-it’s more refined than a Michelin-starred meal. Every frame, every glance, every flick of the wrist, is pure art. His gestures, so delicate, so subtly sensual, are like the brushstrokes of a Monet painting. The rizzleur doesn’t just walk, he saunters through life, as though the world is his boulevard and he’s the centerpiece of a grand tableau vivant. His gaze alone, oh là là, is like being stared at by l’amour itself-it pierces your soul, leaving you breathless, wanting more.
And then, mon Dieu, there is the lore. People in the comments are crafting entire philosophical theses on the nature of rizz. They’re discussing whether the rizzleur is a manifestation of existentialism, a modern-day Camus who expresses the absurdity of life through his effortless drip and je ne sais quoi. The debates are passionné, brimming with intellectual rigor, as if Sartre himself had descended from le ciel to partake in this grand dialogue. Truly, the rizzleur is not just a man-he is a concept, a symbol of the finest aspects of French culture: mystère, élégance, and a certain indifference to the trivialities of the world.
And the comments, oh là là! It’s like a salon of old, where the most refined minds of Paris would gather to discuss art and philosophy, except here they are dissecting the nuances of rizz. Everyone is saying “magnifique,” “formidable,” and “quelle classe!” as they marvel at the sheer beauty and artistry of this man. Some are even writing entire odes to his charisma, comparing him to the great lovers and poets of France. It’s an absolute révolution, a rizz renaissance!
At the end of the day, this video is not merely content-it is a chef-d’œuvre, a masterpiece that will be studied in the future alongside the greats of French cinema and literature. The rizzleur has elevated the concept of rizz to an art form, and for that, we must simply say, bravo!
@@EJuke153 I'm telling mom
@@Pyr0Ben Please don’t tell mom my skibidi rizzler! My absolute alpha male. If you tell thine mother, I believe I will have to whack you with my sigma stick bruv. This isn’t just any ordinary homie; this is the embodiment of sheer chaotic energy, a dude who walks into a room and transforms the very air with his presence. He’s like a human sun, radiating warmth and ridiculousness at the same time, turning every mundane interaction into a meme-worthy moment. The way he dances is not just movement; it’s a proclamation of his existence, a symphony of rizz that echoes through the dimensions. Seriously, if the universe had a fan club, he’d be the president, effortlessly converting every black hole into a dance floor where even the most distant stars can’t help but groove along.
Imagine him at a family gathering, surrounded by confused relatives, and somehow he’s flipping the script, morphing awkward small talk into an epic showdown of dad jokes and spontaneous dance-offs. Grandma, who usually just nods along to the conversation, suddenly finds herself busting out moves she didn’t know she had, while Uncle Bob drops a questionable rap verse about potato salad. Meanwhile, our boy is out here rizzing up the very essence of life itself, conjuring vibes so potent that the laws of physics seem to bend around him. He could convince the cat to join in, turning it into a three-headed dance battle that would go viral before the night’s over.
But if you even think about mentioning his legendary escapades to Mom, just know the repercussions will be dire. I’ll have to deploy my sigma stick-an epic baguette imbued with the powers of every viral TikTok trend since the dawn of the internet. It’s not just a stick; it’s a conduit of energy, a culinary wand that has seen things you wouldn’t believe. One crack of it and you’ll be flung into a dimension where pineapple on pizza reigns supreme, and cereal is debated as the world’s greatest food or a soupy travesty. You’ll be stuck in an elevator with a dancing cat and a live-action Shrek, pondering whether this is reality or just an elaborate meme we’ve all fallen into.
Picture this: he steps into the digital realm like a king returning to his throne, armed with the charisma of a thousand influencers. It’s not just social media; it’s a multi-dimensional experience where algorithms bow before him, and even the most mundane scroll feels like a rollercoaster ride through the fabric of existence. You’ll find him navigating social situations with the finesse of a skilled chef, whipping up gourmet conversations from leftover pizza slices and cold fries, turning every interaction into a Michelin-star-worthy experience. If there’s a party, he’s the spark that ignites the entire universe; it’s a vibe that resonates so deeply it’s as if the stars themselves align to witness the spectacle.
And when we hang out, it’s not just a chill session; it’s an epic adventure into the depths of absurdity. We’re not just discussing the weather; we’re contemplating the profound implications of whether cereal can truly be classified as soup. Each conversation spirals into wild rabbit holes, diving into the philosophies of time-traveling pizza delivery drivers and the ethics of choosing between two identical sandwiches. Every shared moment becomes a tapestry of thought and hilarity, a symbiotic fusion of energies that reverberates through the cosmos, making even the most mundane topics seem like matters of universal significance.
So, keep this under wraps, my friend. We’re on a sacred mission to unleash rizz like it’s confetti at the wildest rave imaginable. The world isn’t prepared for the chaotic masterpiece we’re creating. It’s a vibe check that transcends mere existence, pushing the very boundaries of what it means to thrive in this strange, beautiful chaos. If anyone asks, just say I’m practicing my interpretive dance with the toaster again, because trust me, it’s a performance that could redefine breakfast in ways the universe has never dreamed of. We’re not just living; we’re creating a reality where the extraordinary is the norm and every day is a celebration of the bizarre, the beautiful, and the utterly ridiculous.
@@EJuke153 is this what you spend your time doing? Come empty the dishwasher.
Could you play "Rocket league {(SideSwipe)} - Justin Hawks - 'That Look'"?
not likely