Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Started April as a fucking joke
Empty seats, cold wind, cheap coats
Talk shit, said we wasn't built for this
Now it's packed out, every pitch feels sick
Late nights in the cage, knuckles split
Bus rides, chain-link, small-town grit
They had banners, we had blisters and doubt
Turned every damn “L” to a rallying shout (yeah)
Walk-offs, comebacks, whole league stunned
Wild card kids, now we out here, bruh
Beat the darlings, knocked their crowns in the dirt
Whole city on our backs, every throat, every shirt
[Chorus]
We were one game short of a fucking parade
Confetti in my hair, man, I taste that blade
Saw the lights, saw the stage, felt the champagne rain
Now it’s warm flat beer and this choking shame
One game short, man, that shit cuts deep
I still see that swing when I try to sleep
We were one game short, crowd ready to roar
Now I’m stuck replaying that goddamn score (one game short)
[Verse 2]
Top nine, two out, whole park shaking
Tie game, heartbeat ground-quaking
I got rosin on my hands, sweat in my eyes
Coach says, “You’re the dog, go claim this prize”
First pitch, foul tip, crowd losing their minds
Second one, just missed, squeezed the line
Ump’s zone smaller than my fucking faith
Third ball, now I feel that quake
Then that crack, man, I knew on the sound
Ball carried like it never came down
Their bench spills, our dugout silent as stone
Whole year snapped like a shattered bone
I punch lockers, bloody up my fist
Teammate says, “We’ll be back”—man, fuck that wish
You don’t get magic twice ‘cause you ask real nice
You get one twisted dream, one roll of the dice
[Chorus]
We were one game short of a fucking parade
Confetti in my hair, man, I taste that blade
Saw the lights, saw the stage, felt the champagne rain
Now it’s warm flat beer and this choking shame
One game short, man, that shit cuts deep
I still see that swing when I try to sleep
We were one game short, crowd ready to roar
Now I’m stuck replaying that goddamn score (that goddamn score)
[Bridge]
Don’t talk “proud of you” in my face (nah)
Save that soft shit, I still smell the base
Still hear their fans in our damn house sing
I still got dirt from that night in my ring
Yeah, we shocked every suit in their plush-ass seats
But I ain’t here for cute fucking moral feats
Keep the banner, keep your bittersweet spin
I’m pissed ‘cause we were right there, about to fucking win
[Chorus]
We were one game short of a fucking parade
Confetti in my hair, man, I taste that blade
Saw the lights, saw the stage, felt the champagne rain
Now it’s warm flat beer and this choking shame
One game short, etched into my bones
Whole city screaming through my phone
We were one game short, that’s the story they tell
I call it what it is, man—
we were one pitch from hell
Style
rapaggressiveanthemic trap rap with male vocals; blown-out 808s and rattling hi-hats under a stomping halftime groove. verses are tight and percussive with stacked gang vocals on key punchlines. hook explodes with huge layered chantsstadium crowd ambienceand a distorted lead vocal. minimal eerie synth in the verses; chorus adds brass stabs and wide pads for that championship feelthen drops to a tensenear-a cappella bridge before the final hook hits hardest.world
Prompt
rap, trap, anthemic, lots of swearing, a song about a baseball team going on a Cinderella run, being one game away from winning the World Series and being angry about the loss
Credits
Prompt byBigDeac
GeneratedJan 29, 2026
ModelZona