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 Church!