The sort of track made for slowed Sunday mornings debating whether to roll another spliff or to refill the French Press.

Balancing the forward momentum of their rhymes with lethargic production, Zack Oke and OSK are able to conjure up a fully self-contained universe.

Built around meditative and pillowy chords unfolding at a snail's pace, the two trade hazy bars about everything from Red Nose day to sliding into DMs.

But the song isn't all weed slowed pastoralism. Written during a recent month spent in London the track also carries hints of the city's underground.

From the vinyl crackles to the lonely saxophone line the track is a perfect balance between urban grit and country daydreams.

Written by Henry Ivry