Living Like Game 7

[Intro]
Yeah
Back to business
Clock tickin’, crowd listenin’
Game 7
[Verse 1]
Used to waste days, scrollin’ till my eyes hurt
Laughin’ with some people that ain’t ever seen my side work
Talkin’ like a hitter, never swung, that was my dirt
Now I’m in the cage till my fingers feel like dry earth
Mama said, “You gifted” — I was actin’ like it’s thrifted
Left it in the bag, tags on, never lifted
Now I lace the shoes tight, laces up, no slippin’
Treat every loose ball like the mortgage on eviction
No more “maybe later,” that phrase had me shackled
Had me on the bench while my blessings got tackled
Now I’m watchin’ film of my flaws like a scout
Circle every bad habit just to cut that out
[Chorus]
I’m livin’ like Game 7, every breath, every second
Ain’t playin’ with my present, that regret, I reject it
Odds don’t mean a thing, I don’t care what they’re bettin’
I’m fightin’ every day like I’m tryin’ to force Game 7 (yeah)
I’m livin’ like Game 7, every choice, every lesson
Put my name on the line, let ’em double, I’m steppin’
Odds don’t mean a thing, I don’t care what they’re bettin’
I’m fightin’ every day like I’m tryin’ to force Game 7
[Verse 2]
They was keepin’ score on me, I was keepin’ score on ‘em
Killin’ time, not habits, that’s how you become a boredom
Now it’s 5 a.m. alarms, dark sky, cold shower
Treat the sunrise like a tunnel, I’m just runnin’ toward power
Blew some good years like a lead in the fourth
Tried to laugh it off, stomach twistin’ at the core
Now I write plans like plays on the whiteboard
Cross ‘em out daily, still hungry for a slight more
Talk cheap, I was broke from the chatter
Now it’s proof on the stat sheet, hustle in the data
Friends fell off when I cut out the nonsense
Funny how the silence got me closer to the content (yeah)
[Chorus]
I’m livin’ like Game 7, every breath, every second
Ain’t playin’ with my present, that regret, I reject it
Odds don’t mean a thing, I don’t care what they’re bettin’
I’m fightin’ every day like I’m tryin’ to force Game 7 (Game 7)
I’m livin’ like Game 7, every shot, every message
If the door don’t open, then I’m knockin’ off the hinges
Odds don’t mean a thing, I don’t care what they’re bettin’
I’m fightin’ every day like I’m tryin’ to force Game 7 (yeah)

rap, Dusty East Coast boom-bap with chopped soul samples, warm Rhodes, and a swung, head-nod pocket; male vocals laid right in front of the mix with subtle vinyl crackle. Verses tight and aggressive, slight saturation on the vocal; hook lifts with stacked harmonies, filtered sample opening up on the downbeat. Occasional tape stop effects to punctuate lines, bassline round and melodic to keep it soulful yet gritty., soulful