

Prompt / Lyrics
[Intro] Yeah Saturday sins Greens fees and dreams, baby Uh [Verse 1] Pull up to the clubhouse, trunk go *thunk* Bag full of hopes, swing full of junk Koozie on the can, talk rich like pros Scorecard read 50 and we only played 9 holes (damn) First tee box, y’all act like legends Warm-up swing, cold top, ball went seven I’m laughin’, half lit, still lean on the cart You aiming at the fairway, end up painting the park You got the new sticks, fitted cap, fresh cleats Still chipping from the ladies’ tees, week after week You call “birdie watch,” then you blade your wedge Ball skippin’ ‘cross sand like it’s runnin’ from the feds (hey) [Chorus] We gon’ slice that drive (slice that drive) Chunk that iron (chunk that iron) Three-putt greens, talk kings like lions (like lions) Bet that cash, still trash from the tee Can’t break 90 but we talk like Gs We gon’ pull that pin (pull that pin) Miss that cup (miss that cup) Sip that beer, still swear we clutch Whole squad loud from the rough to the green Bad golf, big mouths, that’s the team [Verse 2] Side bets flyin’, ten bucks, two beers “You ain’t hittin’ that green,” echo in your ears You swing for the moon, catch dirt, no ball Club dig deep, big divot, that’s all (ooh) I’m on the fringe like, “Watch this roll” Then I ram it past the hole straight off the slope Lip-out, spit out, double on deck But I’m talkin’ like a champ with a triple on the card, what’s next? You read break left, it broke right, clown Three-footer felt like twelve feet down Flagstick rattlin’, hands all sweaty But your mouth still heavy while your game stay petty We Venmo, settle tabs by the trunk Loser buy rounds ‘cause we all played bunk Rock-bottom scores, rock-top pride If we ever hit par we gon’ call it a sign (for real) [Chorus] We gon’ slice that drive (slice that drive) Chunk that iron (chunk that iron) Three-putt greens, talk kings like lions (like lions) Bet that cash, still trash from the tee Can’t break 90 but we talk like Gs We gon’ pull that pin (pull that pin) Miss that cup (miss that cup) Sip that beer, still swear we clutch Whole squad loud from the rough to the green Bad golf, big mouths, that’s the team [Bridge] On the cart path swervin’ (who drivin’?) Scorecard numbers hurtin’ Trash talk perfect, swings all broken Legends in the stories, lies we smokin’ Next week back, same bets, same crew Same bad shots, same tall tales too If we ever play good, what we gon’ say? Til then, triple bogey but we brag all day (yeah)
Tags
rap, Boom-bap East Coast bounce, dusty chopped loop over thick bass and crisp snares, male vocals with a laid-back but cocky delivery. Verses tight and conversational, ad-libs popping in the gaps. Hook gets wider with stacked gang vocals and crowd chants, light vinyl crackle and subtle horn stabs on the turnarounds., hip hop, east coast hip hop
3:08
No
3/18/2026