Super Bowl

[Intro: Juicy J & The Four Tops]

Play me some pimpin', man

Put a little love away

Everybody needs a penny for a rainy day

Put a little love away

(What Juicy say? He be like, "Shut the fuck up")

[Chorus: Conway the Machine]

Yeah, big rings, two of those (Yeah)

Super Bowl, Super Bowl (Yeah)

Lot of money, lot of hoes (Yeah)

Lot of money, lot of money, yeah (Woo)

Big forty, nigga, play with me (Huh?)

Feelin' like I won the AFC (Yeah)

Lamb' truck to get from A to B (Yeah)

Still winnin', what they hate to see (Yeah)

[Verse 1: Conway the Machine]

Yeah, woo, got the forty on the stage with me (Brr)

Never lackin', nigga, wait and see (Brr)

Never lackin', nigga, play and see (Brr)

Woo, woo, woo, fuck hеr good, she wanna stay with me (Huh?)

But I could nevеr be faithful to a bitch, I don't live my life faithfully

I'm only faithful to the cash, yeah (Woah)

Straight forward to the bag, uh (Woah)

I don't wait for it, I don't ask (Woah)

I'ma take all of it, I take all it, I'ma take off, I'm finna blast (Yeah)

Yeah, play my tape for them and they say, "Nah, the nigga spazzin" (Yeah)

Got Spade pourin' in the glass

All my bitches ratchet, they like drinkin' out the bottle (Ha)

The bottle (Ha), the bottle (Woo)

Yeah, all my bitches ratchet, they like drinkin' out the bottle (Woo)

The bottle (Woah), woo, yeah

Still on go, on missions

Still keep the Draco with beam and extensions

Still gon' air it if it's tension (Brr, brr)

Told 'em, "I don't really like that," they ain't listen

Shoot it quick, I ain't missin' (Boom, boom)

Scope on the top of it hit you from distance (Woah)

I just won my division (Woah, woah)

Championship rings on my fist glisten (Brr)

[Chorus: Conway the Machine & Sauce Walka]

Big rings, two of those (Ah)

Super Bowl, Super Bowl (Yeah)

Lot of money, lot of hoes (Yeah)

Lot of money, lot of money, woah (Yeah)

Big forty, nigga, play with me (Huh?)

Feelin' like I won the AFC (Yeah)

Bulletproof truck to get from A to B (Ooh-wee, ooh-wee)

I'm really what you niggas claim to be (Splash)

[Verse 2: Sauce Walka]

Super Bowl ring, got the Rams sack

Went Cooper Kupp, I done caught me a big bag

Jugg Jalen Ramsey on the corner on a bitch back

Girl, I'm a P, I don't move pounds or nick sacks

Boy, take a Tic-Tac, talkin' that shit get you shitbagged

Boy, you a slave with a chain, you got whiplash

Sippin' slow soda, but still drive the whip fast

Name is Jerome, but I Bettis won't hit back

Escalade bulletproof

Talkin' dog in the van, his name Scooby-Doo

She got ass like a hippo up out the zoo

But she still gotta pay if she comin' through

Yeah, lil' mama a star and a comet too

She can fall out the sky and land in my coupe

Turnin' models to millions is nothin' new

Baby girl, buy me Prada, I'm proud of you

Congratulations

Put her on stage, it's a graduation

Bitch, I'm the dean of the college and I'm glad you made it

Nowadays, rap so fabricated

I got all numbers in the books, I'm the yellow papers

Showtime the wrist, yeah, Gervonta

I done got rich out the streets, went the con way

I'm from the home of the queen, that's Beyoncé

But I done seen Destiny's Child die from gunplay (Ooh-wee)

[Chorus: Conway the Machine & Juicy J]

Big rings, two of those (Ah)

Super Bowl, Super Bowl (Yeah)

Lot of money, lot of hoes (Yeah)

Lot of money, lot of money, woah (Conway)

Big forty, nigga, play with me (Huh?)

Feelin' like I won the AFC (Yeah)

Bulletproof truck to get from A to B (I got you, man)

I'm really what you niggas claim to be (Let's go)

[Verse 3: Juicy J]

Juice havin' motion, don't get mad

Just like groceries, your ho get bagged

Young wild niggas wanna smoke shit bad

Any disrespect and the toe get tagged

Still ain't retired, guess I ain't finished yet

I got more rings than Brady, I get a check

BBL look deflated like Belichick

No back and forth with a ho, I don't get in that

Still rollin' loud way before the concert

Trick on a bitch, I'd rather die first

Pockets fat like Chuck, no Converse

White ho, black ho, gotta keep it diverse (What?)

Pimpin' ain't dead, gotta try first (What?)

Anything ratchet is my verse (What?)

She want me to put my meat on the grill, she gon' eat the dick up like a bratwurst (Ha)

Bitch, you can pull your pants up, who told you we was finna fuck? I want top first (Mhm)

Hollywood address, all type of access, but I had to get it off the block first (Block first)

Pretty bitch in my bed, paint the city red, paint the same color on an opp's shirt (Opp's shirt)

If you ain't finna gag on the tip and make your eyes water up, this dick will not work

[Interlude: Juicy J]

Won't work

You know what I'm sayin'?

Shut the fuck up

[Chorus: Conway the Machine]

Big rings, two of those (Ah)

Super Bowl, Super Bowl (Yeah)

Lot of money, lot of hoes (Yeah)

Lot of money, lot of money, woah (Yeah)

Big forty, nigga, play with me (Huh?)

Feelin' like I won the AFC (Yeah)

Bulletproof truck to get from A to B (Yeah)

I'm really what you niggas claim to be (Boom, boom)