서울 (Seoul) (with Jay Park)

The production on this one wraps around you like the city itself — a hazy, amber-lit trap beat threaded with soft piano chords that feel lifted from a late-night cab ride down Gangnam-daero. pH-1 moves through the track with the particular ease of someone who grew up between two worlds, his bilingual flow shifting from Korean to English mid-bar without friction, as if the city itself doesn't draw those borders. Jay Park arrives with a looser, more seasoned energy, grounding the track in the older version of Seoul hustle — the 이태원 era, the underground rap scenes that built the infrastructure pH-1 now inherits. Together they aren't celebrating Seoul with fireworks; they're just breathing it in. The pride here is quiet, earned, almost matter-of-fact. There's a warmth in the low-end thump, a sense that this city has asked a lot of them and they've decided to love it anyway. Lyrically it circles around belonging — not the tourist's Seoul of neon and convenience stores, but the one you navigate with complicated feelings about identity and home. You'd reach for this song driving back from somewhere late, windows cracked, when the skyline looks beautiful and exhausting in equal measure.