Mondays are the fucking death of us all. That 6AM sound of your alarm. The feeling of working on EVERYTHING crosses your mind like you didn’t have nightmares about work while trying to sleep. Ritual in the first degree. Commuting a fire-storm of monotony. But a drip starts to syrup in the back of your mind. A “Plasty” vibe drum-rolls into dubbing that only whistles a stream of glitches, leveling up Monday as if HANZ were a spirit guide into dimensional uplift. Almost in a tribal way, HANZ tattoos a new sound-feeling to the Monday hell we all experience, using “Plasty” as a new reign of heaven on Earth, only to match one’s initiative to keep moving. Never let the dollar demand your dignity. Own up:
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