Empty Bottles, Busy Phones

[Verse 1]
I was raised on "you good?"
But we never meant the words back then
All we did was shrug shoulders
Change the subject, change the channel again
Dad poured quiet in a coffee mug
Mom hid tears in the bathroom fan
So I learned early what you do with hurt
You push it down, pour it out, or you run if you can
Now my boys say "hit my line"
But they flake when the night gets dark
So I twist that cap like a doorknob
Walk right into my own head, fall apart
[Chorus]
Empty bottles, busy phones
Why I trust this poison more than home?
I got family, I got friends
Still I’m scrolling for an exit at the end
We got pain, we got pride
So we sip it, smoke it, just to hide
Empty bottles, busy phones
It’s messed up how we self-destruct alone
[Verse 2]
Therapist said "speak your mind"
But my mouth locks up like a rusted gate
Easier to chase that rush
Than explain why my chest feels like fifty pounds of weight
Faster heartbeat, faster flow
I can outrun truth if I talk this quick
If I slow down, voice might crack
So I chase that fade, chase that click
I got cousins in their Sunday best
Tell me "pray, it’ll all be fine"
But they never stayed past the second text
When I typed, "yo, I’m really not okay this time"
So I lean on the cheap escape
'Cause the real help feels too far
Friends are stuck in their own storms
So I drink my weather into the dark
[Chorus]
Empty bottles, busy phones
Why I trust this poison more than home?
I got family, I got friends
Still I’m scrolling for an exit at the end
We got pain, we got pride
So we sip it, smoke it, just to hide
Empty bottles, busy phones
It’s messed up how we self-destruct alone
[Bridge]
Maybe we’re scared to be seen
Red-eyed, shaking, split at the seams (oh)
Easier to blame that pill
Than admit, "I don’t know how to heal"
We laugh it off, say "I’m fine"
Turn the shot into a punchline
But if you call and I pick up
Don’t hang up when the jokes run dry
[Chorus]
Empty bottles, busy phones
Why I trust this poison more than home?
I got family, I got friends
Still I’m scrolling for an exit at the end
We got pain, we got pride
So we sip it, smoke it, just to hide
Empty bottles, busy phones
If you hear this, don’t let me drink alone

rap, Moody trap-rap bounce over heavy, distorted low-end and skittering hi-hats; verses switch between half-time confessional and double-time triplets, male vocals shifting from hushed close-mic to frustrated growl. Hook explodes with stacked call-and-response chants and sub-bass swells, brief melodic backing in the bridge to open space before dropping back into a stark final chorus., slow, male vocals