Admug - Super Bowl (feat. Christyan Scarborough) Lyrics

Uh, yeah, me and Christian back in business, yeah, now we 2-0
Elevating to a higher level, we ain't stooping low
We gon' point it straight up when you ask us who the GOAT
Can't eliminate us, headed to the Super Bowl
Hey, they used to think that they could run it with me
Go ahead, get to lining up, come in and see
Ain't no way you can compete, we in a whole other league
Top tier right here, you gon' stumble and plead
Uh, 40-yard dash, lowest combine time
Top five prospect, better hop in line
Honestly, I could just sit it out, I'll not sign
I'ma stay independent, got God, I'm fine
If I happen to step on a rapper no sweat
Practically having no threats, have me in half of their heads
Badly, they have to get next, bragging they have me in check
Actually passed you, but have you lapped, so you badly perplexed
That boy's clinically sick, we get it, now quit
Simply judging by the writtens he spit
Spitters get ripped, illiterate kids
Ain't got a chance, we finna dance inside the end zone
Ain't got time for y'all, man, get with it or get on
Gotta task to witness, ain't lacking writtens
Got the pad and pen just doing laps in rhythm
They all fasten interest like "this cat's the sickest"
Doing laps and flipping, I'm a rapping gymnast
Y'all really got me feeling like the best out
Rappers quiet when I drop, hmm, got them stressed out
Back in the booth, get to spitting, you can't rest now
Young boy throwing Hail Marys, y'all a check down
If you really wanna play, maybe we could run a fade
I could beat you with a screen too, I don't discriminate
You get your gloves from Temu, I just need some wrist tape
Cover two, I see through
Man-to-man's a mistake
But it really ain't one-on-one if I got God with me
Playing tough, I'm all gritty, kinda like Jamaar did it
Uh song after song, really got the quantity
Work from home, making quality, no Fifth Harmony
Talk to me
Man, we'll probably burn you in a matchup
Y'all rappers finna learn, it's not your turn, you ain't gon' pass us
Really, if you lining up with us, you getting smacked up
40-yard dash, like a 20 on the track cuz
Man, we really like that
Don't even try to fight back
Throwing dimes every day, tell me where the mic at
Don't fumble when I drop, get a six and then I spike that
They ain't even a light jab, I'm feeling like I'm mic mad
Back and forth, open doors, doing it all for the Lord
Swinging them open, don't even know kid
Do it ridiculous, ain't even hoping
They don't see the poured tears and more, need an MVP award
I don't need an MVP, my screen steaming
MP3s gon' get us beaming
Ain't no heathen out here scheming on your team
I can guard anything that they throwin' at me
Going hard, they just trying to drive from the backseat
Rising star, doing it from my home like Patrick