Update app.py

app.py

@@ -41,7 +41,9 @@ lyrics_pool = [
 
     "[VERSE 2]\nclosest i came to musicianship was a clarinet\nwe had to rent it my moms aint had her bearigns yet\nit was noodles and water if we aint clear a check\nblew my horn against the noises of abuse and sex\nthe halls smelled of rock and reefa need some mucinex\nbut in the park the old koreans taught me how to move and stretch\nwhole crew was disadvantaged or an immigrant\nyou could either have a change of clothes or have an instrument\nthe smarter homies started spinnin vinyl after school\nI just wanna rap i guess that’ll just have to do\nfI picked a path, he picked a path, she picked a path too\nhe zipped a bag, I stuck to rap, she went to grad school\nalong the way I learned the heart’s an organ you can play\ngotta keep it tuned so they can feel the words you say\nmy body is a berimbau vocals are the string\nmore relaxed then a child, in the note of “be”\nXLR direct into the possibilities until I see that what I face is not as big as me\nand know that when i'm working music is the feel of time\ni'm only here to learn what kinda instrument am I, tune your instrument",
 
-    "[INTRO]\nLate nights, long fights, mind in a cage\nPages burn slow, tryna light up the stage\nToo much noise, but the silence remains\nAmbition feeds off the hunger and pain\n\n[HOOK]\nWhat’s the cost when the dream keeps callin’?\nClimb so high but the leaves keep fallin’\nMind gets loud but the world stays quiet\nFight for peace in the middle of a riot\n\n[VERSE 1]\nFor the Carolinas, finish beats that I'm on\nPolish off the ten fiddy, kill this lil' Patron\nHit the tarmac like hardpack of Djarums\nThe minute you talk percentage, pure incentive is gone\nShit become a business, then ya innocence is torn\nCats you used to look up to stuck doin' the norm\nI'm up two in the morn' retooling my songs\nfor greenbacks carry tunes till I'm blue in the arms\nMore Baby Huey and Huey P than Louis Vuitton\nMore Huey Lewis and the News than what's new in Milan\nA storyteller, I don't tell what I'm on\nMaybe why I ain't told the story of how I got on\nBut it's fly shit Saturday night shift\nParadise air You gotta be there\nIn a circle of leaders, you don't need an angle just be well-rounded, we smoke Hollywood Squares\nI catch the bat signal when the cash dismal\nGot a dozen legit hustles split rubble, my stacks triple\nIt's that simple and that visceral\ncrack temples like Ski Beatz clappin' a crash cymbal\nIn a church for lost spirits, dead music, and black symbols\nI don't chase idols for fake titles or cracked emblems\nBaphomet, happy pills, and mad issues\nFor what you sacrifice, what did the acolytes give you?\n\n[HOOK]\nWhat’s the cost when the dream keeps callin’?\nClimb so high but the leaves keep fallin’\nMind gets loud but the world stays quiet\nFight for peace in the middle of a riot\n\n[VERSE 2]\nSame canvas, new paint but the cracks still show\nWrite a verse, tear it up, let the angst unfold\nLate checks, late nights, brain tangled in gold\nWeighing pennies for respect while the damage gets sold\nI'm that poet on the ledge, spittin' truth to the breeze\nTurn wounds into lyrics, sew the bruises with beats\nMind broke but prolific, pourin' muse on the grief\nLife taught me how to fight but not to lose what I need\n\nSleepwalkin' through the pressure, clocks tickin' me thin\nHeart heavy, tryna balance art with discipline\nThey say it's love but they only ever listen to wins\nWhile I’m scribblin’ my burdens in invisible ink\n\nThis the cost of creation, see the hours decay\nWhen ya mind is the stage and the crowd's in delay\nStill I play the chords loud, let the agony wail\nDreams echo through my bones when reality fails\n\n[HOOK]\nWhat’s the cost when the dream keeps callin’?\nClimb so high but the leaves keep fallin’\nMind gets loud but the world stays quiet\nFight for peace in the middle of a riot\n\n[OUTRO]\nSo here I stand with my pen and my chains\nPages burn slow, tryna light up the stage\nLate nights, long fights, mind in a cage\nAmbition feeds off the hunger and pain\n",
+    "[INTRO]\nLate nights, long fights, mind in a cage\nPages burn slow, tryna light up the stage\nToo much noise, but the silence remains\nAmbition feeds off the hunger and pain\n\n[HOOK]\nWhat’s the cost when the dream keeps callin’?\nClimb so high but the leaves keep fallin’\nMind gets loud but the world stays quiet\nFight for peace in the middle of a riot\n\n[VERSE 1]\nFor the Carolinas, finish beats that I'm on\nPolish off the ten fiddy, kill this lil' Patron\nHit the tarmac like hardpack of Djarums\nThe minute you talk percentage, pure incentive is gone\nShit become a business, then ya innocence is torn\nCats you used to look up to stuck doin' the norm\nI'm up two in the morn' retooling my songs\nfor greenbacks carry tunes till I'm blue in the arms\nMore Baby Huey and Huey P than Louis Vuitton\nMore Huey Lewis and the News than what's new in Milan\nA storyteller, I don't tell what I'm on\nMaybe why I ain't told the story of how I got on\nBut it's fly shit Saturday night shift\nParadise air You gotta be there\nIn a circle of leaders, you don't need an angle just be well-rounded, we smoke Hollywood Squares\nI catch the bat signal when the cash dismal\nGot a dozen legit hustles split rubble, my stacks triple\nIt's that simple and that visceral\ncrack temples like Ski Beatz clappin' a crash cymbal\nIn a church for lost spirits, dead music, and black symbols\nI don't chase idols for fake titles or cracked emblems\nBaphomet, happy pills, and mad issues\nFor what you sacrifice, what did the acolytes give you?\n\n[HOOK]\nWhat’s the cost when the dream keeps callin’?\nClimb so high but the leaves keep fallin’\nMind gets loud but the world stays quiet\nFight for peace in the middle of a riot\n\n[VERSE 2]\nSame canvas, new paint but the cracks still show\nWrite a verse, tear it up, let the angst unfold\nLate checks, late nights, brain tangled in gold\nWeighing pennies for respect while the damage gets sold\nI'm that poet on the ledge, spittin' truth to the breeze\nTurn wounds into lyrics, sew the bruises with beats\nMind broke but prolific, pourin' muse on the grief\nLife taught me how to fight but not to lose what I need\n\nSleepwalkin' through the pressure, clocks tickin' me thin\nHeart heavy, tryna balance art with discipline\nThey say it's love but they only ever listen to wins\nWhile I’m scribblin’ my burdens in invisible ink\n\nThis the cost of creation, see the hours decay\nWhen ya mind is the stage and the crowd's in delay\nStill I play the chords loud, let the agony wail\nDreams echo through my bones when reality fails\n\n[HOOK]\nWhat’s the cost when the dream keeps callin’?\nClimb so high but the leaves keep fallin’\nMind gets loud but the world stays quiet\nFight for peace in the middle of a riot\n\n[OUTRO]\nSo here I stand with my pen and my chains\nPages burn slow, tryna light up the stage\nLate nights, long fights, mind in a cage\nAmbition feeds off the hunger and pain",
+
+    "[INTRO]\nNobody loves Assholio\nAll alone again\ni wish i could call my buddy joe but yo\nnobody loves Assholio\noh no\nAssholio\n\n[VERSE 1]\nI said some dumb shit\nIm done apologizin\nAint tryna sit around, analyze, and dramatize it\nYeah I can be a dick\nI often chew my words\nattempt to sweeten up the bitter bite and wash it down with wit\nbut too little too late wait You slammed the door behind\nI'm Raconteur of Rude signed Baron Blindside\nI wrote the book on how to piss upon ya fine time\nNow its just me, a manhattan and the skyline\n\n[VERSE 2]\nIf ya skin is thin sensitive delicate\nyou might consider questionin ya tastes find better friends\nIf The best intents pave the road to hell\nIm way ahead with the assphault For meaning well\nMy manners roadkill like a possum stiff\nAnd i swear to god my meaningwell is bottomless\nAnd sometimes what i mean and say are opposite\nAnd only phony rappers wont accept the consequence\nSo here we are again in awkwardville payin rent\nAs i try to justify what i really meant\nlike an asshole",
 ]
 
 #Transformers Code