Uploaded August 2025 | Updated September 2026, 2 weeks ago
Mitchell Frederick - Beneath the Skin (Original Mix)
www.nocturnalradio.live // mitchellfrederick.com
You hear it.
Low…
Under everything.
That’s the sound you came for.
Closer now.
Beneath the skin.
It moves.
It burns.
And you…
You can’t fight it.
The air is heavy.
You breathe it in.
It owns you.
Every pulse…
Every touch…
It’s deeper now.
Harder.
Faster.
But don’t look away.
This rhythm isn’t leaving you.
It’s inside.
It’s alive.
Whispers on your skin.
Heat in your chest.
Your body remembers…
Even if your mind doesn’t.
One beat.
One room.
One truth.
Stay here.
Stay with me.
Beneath the skin.
Mitchell Frederick - Beneath the Skin (Original Mix)
www.nocturnalradio.live // mitchellfrederick.com
You hear it.
Low…
Under everything.
That’s the sound you came for.
Closer now.
Beneath the skin.
It moves.
It burns.
And you…
You can’t fight it.
The air is heavy.
You breathe it in.
It owns you.
Every pulse…
Every touch…
It’s deeper now.
Harder.
Faster.
But don’t look away.
This rhythm isn’t leaving you.
It’s inside.
It’s alive.
Whispers on your skin.
Heat in your chest.
Your body remembers…
Even if your mind doesn’t.
One beat.
One room.
One truth.
Stay here.
Stay with me.
Beneath the skin.
![Mitchell & The Dubs Cartel - Late Checkout [Remastered]](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/nWm-lU7XXcg/mqdefault.jpg "Mitchell & The Dubs Cartel - Late Checkout [Remastered]
Mitchell & The Dubs Cartel - Late Checkout
Told the front desk we ain’t leavin’
Keys on the counter, but we still breathin’
Room service with the shades drawn
Sunlight hittin’ like a new dawn
She got glitter on her collarbone
My chain’s tangled in her iPhone
She said, “You ever sleep?” I said, “Hardly.”
“We pay the price just to crash the party.”
Plastic cups on the balcony ledge
Cigarette burns on a Gideon’s edge
Heaven’s booked, we ain’t checkin’ in
But we might check out - just not this weekend
We got no bags packed, no plans made
Just vibes on loop and a sweet escape
It’s a late checkout, baby, hold that space
Room 420 with the sun on our face
Mini fridge empty, but the soul’s on full
Running on fumes, but we never dull
Voicemail from Monday, I let it ring
We live like legends, not like kings
Back of the Uber, spinnin’ our sins
Old cassette deck still playin’ The Strokes in
Neon Bible in the drawer for luck
And a do-not-disturb on everything we touch
Mitchell: You ever feel like this world’s on pause?
Dubs: Like the clock got tired of tickin’ laws
Mitchell: We write our rules on hotel slips
Dubs: And leave with nothin’ but apocalypse tips
We got no bags packed, no plans made
Just vibes on loop and a sweet escape
It’s a late checkout, baby, hold that space
Room 420 with the sun on our face
Yeah, it’s a late checkout, no need to race
One more night ‘til we vanish without a trace")
