Cooped Up

He's cooped up again, making tracks
Rhythm is the only escape with him
But listen to it, maxed out volume
He's visiting back
Teen years in a prison so deliciously lax
I've been here
Watching as his body withers and frays
As if his skin's wishing, reminiscing physically
A bit underweight
Living today with no vision of slipping away
Bitter to taste, it's the robot shot he downs like it's just the chase
Every day a hot new mix in the place
I can face the closeness
But what translates waste approaches
Hiding 'hind the the music is just plain psychosis
Don't ask me how i know this
Something to do with the way i learn through osmosis
Dreaming he could be the perfect host to your hostess
He's split a number of ways
One bloody drug'll have him coming for days
Somebody say something
Alright man, so let's go with the dextro
But please, remember to just breathe
And flex those sobreity muscles
Like more oft than not
The hustle is a job for nighthawks who thrive in tight spots
His light darkness is a mic rocked