Pandora's Box

Yeah. I got a friend that gets high on his own supply.
When I look at him now, I don't know the guy.
His coke never came in a can.
Nah, there's no saving the man.
It's no surprise that he's hanging with strangers on the road at night, talking to everybody like shit.
But if you got any drugs, then he's so polite.
I'm trying to be like, "Yeah, bro, you know the type." He's got his eyes wide open.
I'm looking through the window to his soul.
I can see my guy's broken, hands hurting from the grudges he's holding.
One day, he will talk to me, I'm hoping.
He said social media gives him anxiety.
I looked up, I see him still scrolling.
It's a gift and a curse when you're chosen.
When you're the man in the city, feel folden.
Is it gambling, clothes, or sex?
You can't figure out why you're so obsessed.
Everybody got vices. Everybody got thoughts that they hope to forget.