Yeah… back pain records, you know.
We still got bars, just need glasses to read ’em.

Wake up slow, stretch before I rhyme,
Coffee in hand, not lean this time.
Bluetooth off, but I’m still connected,
Flow so retro, it got respected.
My knees pop louder than my snare,
But the groove still smooth, I swear.
Crew group chat on silent mode,
We rap once a week, then reload.
Back in the day we’d run the block,
Now we jog, stop, check the clock.
We don’t beef, we barbecue,
Talk old hits, quote déjà-vu.

Boomers on the mic, still tight, still true,
Grey hair wave like it’s something new.
We rap slow, we rap clean,
Old dreams on a modern screen.

Kids laugh — “yo grandpa, chill,”
But my pen still sharp, my rhyme still ill.
Spotify? Man, I still burn discs,
Write punchlines between health risks.
Got a Fitbit counting steps to the bar,
Ad-libs wheeze like a vintage car.
Old heads bounce to the golden feel,
Wi-Fi lag but the vibe still real.
We don’t flex, we reminisce,
Taxes paid, that’s gangsta bliss.
Back problems, not drama,
Rap battle ends with yoga mantra.

Boomers on the mic, still tight, still true,
Grey hair wave like it’s something new.
We rap slow, we rap clean,
Old dreams on a modern screen.

Memory fade but the beat don’t lie,
We miss a cue, then improvise.
Mic in hand like a cane with style,
Every verse takes a little while.

Don’t need clout, got vinyl stacks,
Credit score good, no need for plaques.
We rhyme for fun, not fame or chase,
Just bass, groove, and a friendly face.
Our crew chat fire, full of dad jokes,
Name-drop legends, quote old folks.
Still dream loud, still move slow,
Half verse done, need time to go.

Boomers on the mic, still tight, still true,
Grey hair wave like it’s something new.
We rap slow, we rap clean,
Old dreams on a modern screen.
Boomers on the mic, still got flair,
Bars with arthritis, but we still there.

Boomers on the mic (Boom Bap Rap reload)

The entire sound is in my hands. I write cyber poetry, produce, and compose every track ready for Immersive 3D. Every beat is crafted for spatial and next-gen headphones.
Intimate lyrics, total immersion, every track.

For 30 years I kept unfinished demos to myself, never letting them out. Now I finish what I start and release it the moment it’s alive.

I use every tool available, human or machine, as an instrument.
Technology doesn’t replace creativity. It expands it.

Boomers on the mic (Boom Bap Rap reload)

Terminalose