Old Man Handles

[Intro]
Yeah
[ball bounce, kids talking in the background]
(Okay, okay)
Run it up, run it up
[Verse 1]
Pulled up to the park, fresh kicks, dad hat
Kids lookin’ at me like, "Who’s granddad?"
I’m lacing up slow, tryna act relaxed
Stretch one time, hear three things crack
They like, "You can run?"
I’m like, "Boy, I’m built for this"
First step, quick spin
Hamstring wrote a notice
Jab step, fadeaway, feelin’ like a star
Shot still wet
Back said, "We done, that’s far"
[Chorus]
I still got handles in my head
But my knees keep filing complaints instead (ooh)
I’m tryna go coast to coast
My lungs like, "Nah, man, jog at most"
Thirty-something out here chasin’ clout
Kids yell "Old head!" every time I box out
Thought I was him, guess I’m barely him-adjacent
My body sending emails, "This is not appropriate engagement"
[Verse 2]
Little dude cross me, slid like a credit card
I blame the dust, but the truth hit kinda hard
They play "one more" like ten times in a row
I’m checking my watch like, "Yeah I really gotta go"
Brick on a layup, blame the double rim
But my back knows the facts, it’s exposing him
They say "Run full?" I say "Best of three"
Then I sub myself out, voluntarily
Hands on my shorts, tryna act chill
Heart beat louder than the whistle shrill
They want fast breaks, I want half-court sets
They want alley-oops, I want ice and rest
[Chorus]
I still got handles in my head
But my knees keep filing complaints instead (oh no)
I’m tryna go coast to coast
My lungs like, "Nah, man, jog at most"
Thirty-something out here tryna prove a point
Need a day off every time I leave the joint
Thought I was him, guess I’m barely him-adjacent
My body sending emails, "This is not appropriate engagement"
[Bridge]
They call "next game," I’m like "Who’s that?"
Sittin’ on the bench tryna get my youth back
Lil’ man says, "Unc, you can still shoot though"
I hit one three, walk off like, "Yeah, that’s my show" (hey!)
[Chorus]
I still got handles in my head
But my knees keep filing complaints instead
I’m tryna go coast to coast
My lungs like, "Fam, walk it up slow"
Thirty-something legend at the park in my mind
In real life I’m just stretching all the time
Thought I was him, now I’m cool being mentor adjacent
My body hit reply-all, "We retire from this engagement"

rap, Funny trap with male vocals, bright pizzicato violins and cheeky brass stabs over a bouncy 808 groove. Verses are tight, rapid-fire storytelling with ad-lib callouts; chorus opens into a swaggering sing-rap hook with stacked gang vocals and blaring trumpets. Occasional stop-and-drop moments let punchlines land before the beat slams back in., male vocals