[Verse 1] Found an old tape deck in Dad’s old van, Beats still knock like the roots began. Scratched-up vibe but the soul still pure, That real feel money can’t procure. [Hook] Coconut records, cassette dreams, Old-school truth in new-school streams. Play that groove, let the loop redeem, Hip-hop love on an island theme. [Verse 2] Flip the side, let the hi-hat talk, Guitar strum sync with the sidewalk chalk. Life ain’t perfect, it’s a jam in time, Boom-bap calm with a salt-air rhyme.
