순수 (feat. 우원재)

기리보이's production on this track wraps around the listener like late-night city fog — a slow, shuffling hip-hop pulse anchored by muted piano chords and the faint crackle of vinyl warmth. The tempo sits in that deliberate, unhurried pocket where every beat feels intentional. 기리보이 delivers his verses with characteristic wry detachment, his voice almost conversational, as if confiding rather than performing. 우원재 enters with a rawer, more earnest energy, his delivery carrying a kind of quiet urgency that cuts against the smooth instrumental. Together they explore the strange grief of realizing innocence doesn't disappear in a single moment — it erodes slowly, almost imperceptibly, until one day you look back and can't quite locate when things changed. The track belongs firmly in the lineage of Korean hip-hop's introspective wave from the mid-2010s, when artists began turning inward rather than outward for subject matter. It's the kind of song you put on during a solo drive through a city that used to feel magical, trying to remember what it felt like before you knew too much.