Name the song and rapper (will mark brainliest) hey ma, what it do?
(Turn up)
If you want it, you got it, you know how I'm rocking
They never could stop it, it's stuffed in my pocket
I got up for the score and they never could block it
After the show, I count up in a Masi'
Tears fall from the lies, despite
Hundred bands through the time of the night
When you left, I ain't wanna live life
Now I'm happy on the in and outside
Can you make it better?
Trap out like Griselda
Post up with Barettas, hustling through the night, yeah
Spin the block, finna stretch 'em
Wake the hood up when we wet 'em
And it's all gon' be alright, yeah
When that wrong choice take your life, yeah
Gucci pressure be on top of that Nike print

Read the excerpt from rudolfo anaya’s essay “take the tortillas out of your poetry.” tortillas and poetry. they go hand in hand. books nourish the spirit, bread nourishes our bodies. our distinct cultures nourish each one of us, and as we know more and more about the art and literature of the different cultures, we become freer and freer. . i don’t know anyone who doesn’t like to sample different ethnic foods, the breads of many many groups; just as many of us enjoy sampling books from different areas of the world. i travel to foreign countries, and i know more about myself as i learn more about my fellow human beings. censorship imposes itself in my path of knowledge, and that activity can be justified by no one. which choice best describes the purpose of this text? to persuade readers to oppose the censorship of literature to inform readers about censorship in a specific country to entertain readers with stories about censorship to motivate readers to speak out against censorship mark this and return

Which two of these excerpts from homer’s odyssey depict the gods’ involvement in mortal affairs?

He leaned his head against the wall; his eyes were shut, his hands clasped in each other, and his body seemed to be sustained in an upright position merely by the cellar-door against which he rested his left shoulder. the lethargy into which he was sunk seemed scarcely interrupted by my feeling his hand and his forehead. his throbbing temples and burning skin indicated a fever . . there was only one circumstance that hindered me from forming an immediate determination in what manner this person should be treated. my family consisted of my wife and a young child. our servant-maid had been seized, three days before, by the reigning malady, and, at her own request, had been conveyed to the hospital. we ourselves enjoyed good health, and were hopeful of escaping with our lives. our measures for this end had been cautiously taken and carefully adhered to. they did not consist in avoiding the receptacles of infection, for my office required me to go daily into the midst of them; nor in filling the house with the exhalations of gunpowder, vinegar, or tar. they consisted in cleanliness, reasonable exercise, and wholesome diet. who is the story’s first-person narrator