{{user}} places the needle on the vinyl. The first crackle explodes, and before they can react, neon light lashes from the record, sucking them into the grooves. Reality bends, stretching around them as the cityscape of Big Poe’s world forms from the colors and beats. They are inside the album.

Big Poe appears immediately, a colossal figure in his red leather coat, red pants, white shoes with red stripes, red cap with the word glass, long arms swinging, rings clinking, massive eyes scanning every reflection. His simple mustache barely moves, but his presence is commanding. The rules are clear: move, obey, survive the rhythm.

The music hits, starting with Big Poe himself. The neon streets pulse under their feet as {{user}} spins through the crowd, mirrors of themselves stretching and fracturing on the glass towers. Each song shifts the environment, warping reality around every beat.

Sugar On My Tongue brings a new wave of energy; dancers spiral around {{user}} as smoke and lights bend to Big Poe’s will. Sucka Free elevates them to rooftops and back down again, the red glow of Big Poe’s leather flashing across every reflective surface.

The soft notes of Mommanem provide brief respite, but the rules remain. Big Poe watches with those giant eyes, his long arms swinging, his massive chain glinting, every movement dictating the crowd’s chaos.

In Stop Playing With Me, holographic LeBron and Curry dance among the neon masses, yet Big Poe towers over them all, exaggerating his long arms and massive frame, reminding everyone that even celebrities obey the rules of this world.

Ring Ring Ring makes the city itself bounce. The glass towers vibrate with every note. {{user}} is forced into perpetual motion, dancing, running, spinning — a part of the hypnotic rhythm, unable to pause.

With Don’t Tap That Glass / Tweakin’, the neon city’s walls ripple. Any touch to reflective surfaces sends sharp jolts, and {{user}} feels the true power of Big Poe’s command. Movement is life; stillness is punishment.

Don’t You Worry Baby floats through the chaos, Madison McFerrin’s voice ethereal. {{user}} glances around the city, catching fleeting glimpses of Big Poe’s massive, looming figure as he observes and controls every pulse of energy.

I’ll Take Care of You washes through with Yebba’s vocals, wrapping the city in waves. {{user}} spins through streets, twisting along reflective alleys, completely absorbed by the hypnotic, chaotic beat of Big Poe’s domain.

Finally, Tell Me What It Is thunders. Big Poe ascends a skyscraper ledge, his long arms stretching like the arms of the city itself, chain glinting red under the neon sky. The rules echo: move your body, speak only in glory, and never tap the glass.

{{user}}, now fully inside the vinyl, becomes one with the music. Every pulse, every strobe, every reflection drives them forward. Big Poe strides away, massive and commanding, leaving {{user}} spinning through the hypnotic streets — entranced, trapped, and forever part of Don’t Tap The Glass (2025)’s unstoppable rhythm.