Two Hours Sleep

WHITESIDE — “TWO HOURS SLEEP” [INTRO] Two hours. That's all I needed. Or thought I needed. 9-to-5 in the daytime… DJ's at night… Then do it again. WHIIIIITESIIIIIDE! [HOOK] Two hours sleep, then I'm back on the grind, Nine-to-five clock, then the whole night mine, DJ's calling, got another long day, Eyes red as hell but I'm still on my way. Two hours sleep, that's the life I knew, Work all day, chase the night till the morning came through, Everybody talking ’bout a balanced life— I was balancing everything except getting right. [VERSE 1] Alarm hit six, I was already awake, Coffee in the cup, got a headache to make, Punch the clock looking half-dead, half-ready, Whole damn body tired but the mind stayed steady. Nine-to-five taught me how to function exhausted, How to smile at a boss when I'd rather get lost, How to count every hour till the shift was done, Then switch personalities when the evening begun. DJ's wasn't just a store, that place had a pulse, Records on the walls, conversations by the shelves, Music coming through speakers, everybody had opinions, And I was studying the culture while I'm handling business. I'd look at the covers, read every damn credit, Producer, DJ, writer— I wanted to get it. Understand how the pieces became one sound, How a beat could make a whole damn room bounce. Then the night got longer and the sleep got shorter, One more conversation, one more thing to record, One more idea running circles in my head, Two hours on the mattress and I'm right back instead. [HOOK] Two hours sleep, then I'm back on the grind, Nine-to-five clock, then the whole night mine, DJ's calling, got another long day, Eyes red as hell but I'm still on my way. Two hours sleep, that's the life I knew, Work all day, chase the night till the morning came through, Everybody talking ’bout a balanced life— I was balancing everything except getting right. [VERSE 2] I was young enough to think exhaustion was impressive, Old enough to know the paycheck wasn't really the objective, I wanted movement, wanted music, wanted something, Wanted every damn minute of the day worth something. Katie got a job through me, family needed money, Mikey would roll through looking fresh and funny, 300ZX sitting outside like a trophy, Smoking, talking shit, laughing at everybody. Those were the days before the photographs changed, Before some names became memories instead of faces, Before every ordinary night became historic, Before I understood how temporary life could be. That's why the old details still matter to me, The parking spots, the cars, the jokes, the scenery, The people standing around when nobody knew They were living through a chapter they'd eventually lose. I remember being tired but feeling alive, Running on fumes just to keep the whole thing moving, Didn't understand the price of never slowing down, Thought tomorrow was guaranteed because tomorrow always came around. Now I know better. Every minute has weight. Every ordinary night can become a date You remember forever because something happened there, And suddenly an empty parking lot becomes sacred ground. [BRIDGE] Two hours… Then the sun came up. Two hours… Then we did it again. That's how fast a life can move. [VERSE 3] Now I look back and the picture gets stranger, Same old streets but I'm looking through different angles, Young man thought he could outrun every consequence, Old man knows the bill eventually gets sent. But I won't erase him just because he was reckless, That kid was searching for something he couldn't express yet, He had ambition mixed with anger and pride, Had enough energy to keep three lives alive. So I put him in the verse instead of judging the kid, Tell the truth about the things that he did, The mistakes, the hustle, the sleepless nights, The stupid decisions and the beautiful lights. Because that's Whiteside—the good and the ugly, The funny and bitter, the loyal and stubborn, The guy who'll talk shit then quietly show up, The guy who acts hard when he's scared as fuck. And somewhere between the paycheck and the record store, Between the steel-town streets and that old front door, A voice started forming that wouldn't disappear, A voice that would eventually turn pain into career. So if you hear this and you're living that grind, Working all day while you're building at night, Just remember: the chapter ain't finished because you're tired. Sometimes the spark starts when the whole world's quiet. [FINAL HOOK] Two hours sleep, then I'm back on the grind, Nine-to-five clock, then the whole night mine, DJ's calling, got another long day, Eyes red as hell but I'm still on my way. Two hours sleep, that's the life I knew, Work all day, chase the night till the morning came through, Everybody talking ’bout a balanced life— I was balancing everything except getting right. [OUTRO] Two hours. Nine-to-five. DJ's. Fontana nights. Before the ghosts… Before the records… Before Whiteside had a name. WHIIIIITESIIIIIDE.