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I am Not the one to sleep on I have Levels and layers to my essence 

Tired of being humble Freestyle

Unverified Opinion

A southern rock band with a hint of gospel and blues.

Keep the Devils Away

Blood and Gore

Watch Me Blow (Prod. Prodbystone)

White walls...
No sound...
No exits...
Just me now.

I woke up in silence with plastic bands,
No laces, no belt, no one holding my hand.
They said “you’re safe now,”
Yeah? Safe from what?
From the world outside or the war I’ve got?

Numb to the bone, stare at the floor,
Counting cracks like they’re keeping score.
Nurses smile like it’s just routine,
But I see ghosts in the in-between.

I’m not violent, I’m just done,
But they still lock the fucking sun.
Med drip slow like leaking trust -
Tell me, doc, how’s that supposed to “adjust”?

White walls, no sound - just my thoughts on repeat.
They say I’m safe now…
But I still can’t breathe.
No sharp things, no calls, no keys -
Just four-point holds and cold IVs.

Tell me, how the fuck is this “healing”?
When I feel less human and more like the ceiling.

Talk in circles, sedate the pain,
But no one asks why it’s there in my brain.
They chart my tears, measure my sleep,
Label me broken so they don’t have to weep.

God forbid I scream or crack,
They’ll up the dose and send me back.
This ain't peace - it’s boxed-up shame,
A prison wrapped in a clinical name.

You ever been too fucked to fake it...
But too lucid to die?
Ever stared at your hands
And wondered if they’re even yours?
This place don’t fix shit - it just makes it quieter.
And quiet don’t mean healed.
Quiet just means trapped.

White walls, no sound - just my thoughts on repeat.
They say I’m safe now…
But I still can’t breathe.
I count the tiles, I lose the days,
They feed me pills and take my name.

And when I say, “I want to leave…”
They say, “That’s not what better means.”

This isn’t healing…
It’s just… silence.
And I’m fucking drowning in it.

NEXT

Bruso

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