[Intro: 116 BPM; original seven-note rubbery synth-bass riff twice; smooth techno kick; dry snare; Rhodes ninth chords; muted electric-guitar response; eight seconds] [Verse 1: natural male low tenor; smoky chest tone; conversational rap behind the beat; guitar answers each couplet] Saw two seats for forty, said, “That ain't bad.” First night out together in a month we'd had. Clicked the little button, watched the total climb, Sixty-three before we even picked a time. Service fee, delivery—nothing in the mail, Just a code inside my phone to scan against the rail. Cuz said, “That's normal.” I said, “That's the trick. Show the cheap price first, add the rest when people click.” [Hook: natural male R&B melody; restrained harmony on final words; bass riff remains audible] Convenience fee, Tell me what you do. I picked the seats myself— What did I pay you? One more charge, One more line. You call it small, But that small change is mine. [Turnaround: seven-note bass riff twice; guitar doubles the last three notes; warm electric-piano chord answer] [Verse 2: natural male rap; firmer consonants; precise paired rhymes] Got there early, parking had a sign, Twenty bucks to leave it, fifty past nine. Paid it with my debit, screen offered me a choice: Add a tip for parking—had to laugh and use my voice. Nobody took the keys, nobody parked the car, I walked across the gravel, found the entrance from afar. Then bought a little water, saw another screen, Asking me a question with a button colored green. Girl behind the counter said, “You don't have to tip.” I said, “I know it's not your fault,” then took another sip. She's the one who hears it when the customers get sore
