Two speakers trade rapid-fire verses about hip-hop, skating, and the rituals of youth culture. They brag about their crew's energy, their style, and their ambition to pay bills and hone skills, cycling through themes of self-expression and resilience with motifs like night bloom and new days, new nights.
Doing a freak at 16, butter pecan ice cream, the hip-hop scene, the whole team. Starch the hem out of your jeans, lips full of Vaseline while you knocking your beats off. Watching chicks walk on by, focus eye on the prize. New skates, Saturdays to feel great, nonstop body rock when the whole crowd shake off. Playing them old school songs, sing along and do it till the break of dawn. High-fives, yeah, a new day to feel blessed. Wilding out at a show, get it off your chest, so do it. New days, new nights, turntables and mics, reaching new heights. Rain against the windowpane, the aim to go against the grain. Newfound love for newfound times, music shopping. New batteries and walking. A day to yourself to relax and chill. Plus paying off every single one of your bills. See your own evolution. Prop yourself with a skill. I'm getting cold stupid. Recording.
Humming this tune when you're inside a room.
Getting ready to go when the night bloom. I'm looking hella good.
Better pop my collar.
First to rock something and the whole school follow. 6 million ways to shape your days. When a curveball's thrown in, you ain't fazed. Like the clouds rolling, but you love them grays. That's the tune.
I'm feeling it. Force, the whole crew in one place.
Trailblaze, the right force.
Crew flicks, brand new fade and kicks.
Bugging out with your friends, kicking all of the mix somewhere. Staying up all night long, making people
60 years old with an 18 year old ski brain - High Alpine Runs Breckenridge January 2025
