Ahhhh Ahhh Bounce Bounce (2x)
Oooo OOOO Sway for a nigga sway (2x)

Verse 1 (Pat-Live):
Woke up this morning put my feet up on the flo',
Lift my head up to the sky saying, “Only Lord knows,”
That I'm headed for the top, and to the top I'll surely go,
I hit my partner on the cell, told em’ get ready for the show
Head down to the barbershop, you know the niggas talking,
Brothers showing nothing but love soon as I walking,
So I walked through the shop, and copped me a seat,
Someone yelled, “Son you the talk of the week,”
So I looked over, my right shoulder, saw it was my aunt and uncle Stover,
Had a huge grin and a cup of folgers, he said, "Son be sure to keep your composure, this exposure, will expose ya, get you eaten by vultures, remember what I told ya: work hard, stay hard, play hard, be real, be humble, be a soldier, it’s a cold world, real cold world, so how about you make It colder, it takes pressure to make diamonds, lets see when your album's over.. and you know what… what…never forget about God," I said, "Never worry about that unc, that won't be too hard. Cause when I…"

Chorus (2x):
Step up on stage I'm like church, pulpit
Crowds going wild, while they bumping my music,
And my mic is in my hand, my heart's pouring through it
And you can call me Nike nigga cause I Just Do It!

Verse2 (Grant):
sun runs up, strap on the kicks
nike mentality, converse picks
round by campus grounds
for a mound of sweet succulent
espresso dreams drowned
fuel for your foolish or your frugal
fashionable grinds for your noodle and you nudists
ruthless on the mic with pat live
diamond flow, pressure on all sides
epistemology of rhyme: go hard
for the carbon once reaction starts bitch
mes amis avec beacoups des swag, that's a french press
jog your memory, pete rock reminiscence
not jogging like this sooner, that's a miss step
on the pulpit for you vultures
that's pyrrhic
nicht zu geben über ein fuck ihre flieben
that's a blitzkrieg
faster than a pastor rasping
grasping for a lasting grip
on the concept of jesus
embodied by the avatar of leeroy jenkins
leading through a red sea
of pharisees fallen
prophecies rotting at the bottom
trodden graveyard of your mainstream flotsam
fella that's a helluva verse verbally
g live just spit for a minute, literally.

Verse 3 (Pat-Live):
Attention! Attention! Read all about it,
I'm about to shut it down in this bitch and all surroundings,
From the 434, to the 252, through all Forsyth county,
'bout set the stage ablaze, please tell me who is gone stop me?
I'm so sincere and the world must adhere, and I know I'm go'n kill it,
Do you feel it? Hell yeah,
Tonight will be the night you get the show of the year,
Prove myself unto the world, "Hello world I am here!"
So I pull up to the club looking, fresh, stupid,
Steppin' out the car and watching all these people lose it,
Walking through the crowd and my shirt keep getting pulled,
Pretty bishes yelling out, "Pat, can I have your children?"
Ha, hell no, but you kind of cute though, I got a show, but you can hit me later though,
maybe you get back stroke, side stroke, and a couple in throat, it could be your lucky night you never know, you never know,
you never know but maybe you could be my preference
say I'm preaching to the choir so I guess that makes me reverend
Amen.

(Hook)

Dialogue:

(Coors Light my delight nigga)

("And don't forget to tie your shoe-laces, or, you might start trippin')