Acapella 1
Touch down call the pass bout 80 yards deep
Niggas never thought I make of this here streets
Be his, so foucs I'm NFL
Nigga finally actually legit I got hits for sell
Used to dream of being quarterback
Now I'm like a runner back
Bitch He the hold head he get the rock than he run it back
In the ATL birds flockin every summer
When the clock runnin low we just drop out numbers
Mama so anxious she on my line of scrimets
Just gave her a 100 dollar bill she snort the whole line of scrimets
Then it's back on defence ref throw the flag
Call pass on the firence but we know that cash
So we blow that cash, like fuck it it ain't nothin
As long as the blits comin we gone sack us somethin
The trap stay bumpin, the weed get bitch
Take it no playin time when we grind game time
We shine like the lights on us
Gang and the young bosses the team on us
I make your bitch get nauseous how I'm flowin
I Keep goin own it all til I get a peace of mind
Swear I wish you nigga would tryna take a piece of mine
Like a walkin dolla sign keep the mitnare on me
Now I'm in a new town what up if you there homie
Fly guy I be somewhere in the air homie