I saw this dude yesterday. Everywhere.
Not the actual Skipp Whitman, but the guy Skipp Whitman is dressed as, you know, super America bro.
Thankfully Skipp's sauntering frollick through the Fourth of July "Fireworks" is chill as fuck. This is exactly the type of beat that'll keep me posted up poolside, only parenting when I hear tears or hear nothing, because we all know crying means they're alive, but nothing means they're poss in trouble.
Cheers to Skipp for not getting me too excited since my skin is fried and my brain ain't what it was a week ago after a four day weekend of crap food and cheap booze.