Placeholder: But it's not the mood to hear The tales of limousines and pails Of money they'll make like a pro I be like, "Yo black, just play me the tape" But at the show the time to spare I just make But the songs created in they shacks But it's not the mood to hear The tales of limousines and pails Of money they'll make like a pro I be like, "Yo black, just play me the tape" But at the show the time to spare I just make But the songs created in they shacks

@generalpha

Prompt

But it's not the mood to hear The tales of limousines and pails Of money they'll make like a pro I be like, "Yo black, just play me the tape" But at the show the time to spare I just make But the songs created in they shacks

statue, doubles, twins, entangled fingers, Worst Quality, ugly, ugly face, watermarks, undetailed, unrealistic, double limbs, worst hands, worst body, Disfigured, double, twin, dialog, book, multiple fingers, deformed, deformity, ugliness, poorly drawn face, extra_limb, extra limbs, bad hands, wrong hands, poorly drawn hands, messy drawing, cropped head, bad anatomy, lowres, extra digit, fewer digit, worst quality, low quality, jpeg artifacts, watermark, missing fingers, cropped, poorly drawn

5 months ago

Generate Similar

Explore Similar

Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

1024 × 1024

Similar

Denzel was the epitome of an adventurera man born with an insatiable wanderlust that burned deep within his soul. Standing tall and broad-shouldered, Denzel possessed a rugged charm that was impossible to ignore. Denzel's sun-kissed skin bore the marks of countless hours spent under the open sky, his face etched with the lines of both laughter and weathered determination.
The jukebox in the dimly lit bar crackled to life with a familiar tune, the sultry melody weaving its way through the smoke-filled room. A lone figure sat at the corner booth, bathed in the dim glow of the neon lights, lost in the haunting lyrics that filled the air. With a cigarette dangling lazily from their lips, the figure tapped their fingers rhythmically on the table, the words of the song resonating with a sense of longing and desire. As the music swirled around them, memories of past lov
young 1870 dark-skinned kansas girl with black curly hair standing on the street and pointing a pistol straight at me
Beautiful young black woman, with short punk hair, in Star Trek uniform
But it's not the mood to hear The tales of limousines and pails Of money they'll make like a pro I be like, "Yo black, just play me the tape" But at the show the time to spare I just make But the songs created in they shacks
Does he love me I want to know How can I tell if he loves me so Is it in his eyes? Oh no! You'll be deceived Is it in his sighs? Oh no! He'll make believe If you want to know if he loves you so It's in his kiss That's where it is
Color picture in a Theater in Paris: Biographie, photographie et citations de Arthur Rimbaud. Jean Nicolas Arthur Rimbaud est un poète français
Blaxploitation: blackout
Klaatu barada nikto
I did not believe the information Just had to trust imagination My heart going "Boom-boom-boom" "Son, " he said "Grab your things, I've come to take you home" Hey, back home To keep in silence I resigned My friends would think I was a nut
riding a train
in the jazz bar: Theresa Hak Kyung Cha, a solitary figure nestled in a booth at the edge of the room. She sits with a quiet grace, her dark hair framing a face that seems to hold a universe of secrets behind its impassive facade. There's an aura of mystery about her, an enigmatic allure that draws you in despite yourself. while a lone saxophonist pours his soul into the music, his notes weaving through the air like tendrils of smoke.

© 2024 Stablecog, Inc.