Golden Era Echo

(Intro)

Yeah…

Turn the speakers up

Boom bap season

Let’s go

⸻

(Verse 1)

Back in the day with a mic and a dream,

Blueprint raw, no filter, no sheen,

Tape deck click when the beat rewind,

Every single bar like a spark in the mind.

Shell toes scuffed on the concrete floor,

Cypher by the park near the corner store,

Head nod steady when the kick drum knock,

Time stand still when the rhythm unlock.

Loose-leaf pages full of late-night thoughts,

Every rhyme stitched tight, never store-bought,

Streetlight glow on the subway train,

Spray-can art make the whole car flame.

Truth in the verse, never fake, never front,

Every metaphor sharp, every simile blunt,

From the basement jam to the rooftop show,

Old school soul let the whole world know.

⸻

(Hook)

Boom bap bounce when the vinyl spin,

Let the real begin, let the vibe sink in,

Hands up high when the breakbeat drop,

Golden era sound never gonna stop.

Boom bap bounce, let the speakers crack,

Pure raw rhythm and we bring it back,

From the block to the globe let the echo roll,

Old school hip-hop feed the soul.

⸻

(Verse 2)

Cassette tape hiss in the Walkman play,

Rewind that line ‘cause it hit that way,

Benches worn where the dreamers sat,

Plotting out bars with a fitted cap.

No auto-correct on the pad we write,

Just ink and sweat through the long cold night,

Every cadence built with a steady hand,

Like bricks in a wall that forever stand.

DJ scratch make the record cry,

Crossfade cut like a hawk in the sky,

MC step with a confident tone,

Turn two turntables into a throne.

Unity first when the cipher form,

From a quiet calm to a lyrical storm,

Past, present, future in the same breath flow,

Old school roots help the new seeds grow.

⸻

(Hook)

Boom bap bounce when the vinyl spin,

Let the real begin, let the vibe sink in,

Hands up high when the breakbeat drop,

Golden era sound never gonna stop.

Boom bap bounce, let the speakers crack,

Pure raw rhythm and we bring it back,

From the block to the globe let the echo roll,

Old school hip-hop feed the soul.

⸻

(Outro)

So when the beat fade out and the night stay deep,

And the city hum low while the world asleep,

Remember the spark when the culture rose —

Old school rhythm forever flows.