"End-Zone" lyrics

Cameron, you killed it

I been in and out of sacks like a quarterback
I'm havin' all this motion, so LeBron kinda stiff
Four deep all black, I'm principle like that
But I'm like Michael Vick, how I can get your dog killed
But if he live, he got a lot of Luck like Andrew
She told her friend 'cause she know I'm the one, like Cam Newton
I lost everything I cherish, so I stopped braggin'
I got the bills paid at seventeen like Josh Allen
A deuce in the 3-5, got a nigga feelin' better
All she do is ride when I get her off that Tesla
She say she a saint, but no, you ain't, give me a Brees
Card keep a AR, he been a G since he was three

I don't want your bitch, I only want her for the weekend
If she want this, then I'ma Steeler like I'm Big Ben
She ain't from Detroit, but how she talk, I know she Lion
That Lambo matte black, I'm just in the Toyota with Ryan
They used to Raid us, this ain't Vegas, but we took some losses
Back then, we ran deep until them nigga turned to mouses
Sometimes I try to call Brian Dawkins, it ain't no safety
I wanna live like I'm Jerry, I'm tired of rice and gravy
Like O.J., I won't raise my son to be no simp
Like Cleveland Brown, bitch, you stay up in the gym
Ja'Marr, bitch ain't bad enough for me to Chase her
Lamar, have you seen an I-8 in a damn bird?
Lamar, I'm in Dallas with a bad bitch in the coupe
Like Try, I'm tryna stay down so I can pile up my loot
My nigga Wil-son like they play for the Broncos
And all this Christian, I feel like Tim Tebow

All that fumbling bags, it ain't no way you winning Heisman
Private jet to NYC, the motions gettin' Giant
Final quarter, we up nine, the bleachers gettin' silent
Junior Seau, I'll pull up, hit 'em with that lightning
Bitch, when tryna catch up, I'ma Charge her like I'm Keenan Allen
Tried to catch the coach's eyes, but that ain't never peep the talent
You would think I'm on the Bengals, all the stripes I earned, they show
Y'all be fourth and twenty puntin', we be scorin' first and goal
Out here stealin' swag, I need to Suh 'em like Ndamukong
Blowin' down the rental, visor smoked out just like Tomlinson
They gon' have my name in Canton with all these accomplishments
You could have Lombardi as your coach, still couldn't stop the blitz
Down in Florida, hunnid in the clip, I got a buck in there
Turkey bag is louder than the bleachers, I can't fuckin' hear
Sometimes it ain't no hustle in him, but he got talent
Finna lead the team to victory, you know I'm Tron Madden
Pocket Special Ed, they can't read
Ain't no Za in Phoenix, got a Larry plug in the AZ
Banshee kickin' like the special teams, pull up and take three
Touchdown, touchdown, I think that's why they hate me

Shitty boys, Dog $hit Militia, long live $cam
You know? Hey, hey