Eight

No normal light in weeks.
It′s calm inside them sheets.
You got garbage piled in heaps.
In an awful sty that reeks.
You're always typing tweets,
On forums fighting geeks,
On porno sites for freaks
And their falsified physiques.
Fuck real broads and trying to meet
Cause then you′re obliged to speak.
The less you talk the better.
No real life, no pressure.
Phone Inside your dresser.
You not inclined to dress up,
Get out, then fight the weather.
Cause inside is better.

Cause you're living inside your very small bubble.
No stress, no worries, no pressure or trouble.
Nobody to bother or hurt you.
Your reality is virtual.

Second life, fake persona.
You log-in and then make lasagna,
Serve 2 plates on your date with Tana,
Log-out, play the new Drake/Rihanna.
Then you order a fake vagina.
One that says made in china.
You use lots of saliva
And the lube bottle beside ya.
Ding... Text from lil Caesar
Ring ding dong... Your breakfast is pizza.
You relax and rest with your feet up,
Eat half, put the rest in the freezer.
Then you sip on a large soda
While you sit on a soft sofa.
You eat, shit, then palm your hard boner.
Next day you'll start it all over.

Cause you′re living inside your very small bubble.
No stress, no worries, no pressure or trouble.
Nobody to bother or hurt you.
Your reality is virtual.

Log-in, Log-out
Same shit, different day...