One warm July afternoon in Miami, Kronic and Krunk! awoke in their hotel room to the screams of a horrified room service attendant. Surrounded by empty bottles, women’s underwear, assorted fruits and blistering hang overs, the boys lacked explanations for the wake of destruction and debauchery that had consumed their room.
Attempting to retrace their steps over an ocean side brunch, the dynamic duo could recall nothing but the sound of a saxaphone riff. Racing back to their penthouse studio, Kronic and Krunk feveriously recreated the melody, hoping to spur additional memories. Whilst the details of the night remain elusive, the resulting tune become the soundtrack to a summer’s worth of adventures.