[Intro]
Yeah.
USA! USA!
[Sound of a stadium crowd roaring & chanting “USA”, suddenly silenced by a heavy bass drop]
It’s our house now.
Round of 32, we ain't playin'.
2026. Let's get it.
[Verse 1]
Freese in the cage, yeah he lockin’ the door,
[Heavy metal gate slamming]
Dest on the flank, he be runnin’ the floor.
Richards a beast, he ain’t takin’ no talk,
Ream with the vision, he ownin’ the walk.
Antonee smooth, he be slippin’ past lines,
[High-speed jet engine pass-by]
Zendejas is lethal, he’s shiftin’ the signs.
[The Samba percussion gets louder, faster, more aggressive]
Don’t look at the stats, man, look at the grit,
When we step on the field, man, we never gon’ quit.
[Pre-Chorus]
[Rapid-fire hi-hats building tension]
Can you hear that thunder rollin’ through the grass?
The Americans are comin’, we ain’t movin’ fast, we movin’ past.
America is coming, yeah, the order is strict,
Ready for the battle, yeah, the players we pick.
The goalies are ready, they’re guarding the goal (woah)
[Crowd chanting "USA!" in the background, muffled]
You enter our territory, you’re on your own!
[Chorus]
We are the American Dream Team, yeah, we runnin’ the game,
[Heavy bass thud]
Knockin’ down titans, we sealin’ their fate.
They talkin’ that talk, but we walkin’ that walk,
Heavyweight hitters, we breakin’ the lock.
American Dream, yeah, we takin’ the crown,
Keepin’ the trophy, we won’t back down.
[Verse 2]
[Beat builds up with rapid-fire hi-hats]
Tyler, the motor, he never gets tired,
McKennie, he’s wild, he’s fully-loaded and fired.
Malik, he’s lethal, he’s slicin’ the defense,
Pepi is huntin’, he’s clinical death,
Pulisic, the Captain, he’s chasin’ the pretense.
France in the way? Man, get out of the lane,
Ronaldo lookin’ stressed, yeah, he feelin’ the pain.
England lookin’ soft, they ain’t ready for war,
Brazil dancin’ round, but we lockin’ the door.
[Bridge]
[Everything stops except for a gritty, dark bass line and a faint, eerie funk organ]
[Beat drops out for a second, voice gets intense and gritty]
Captain America, step to the plate,
Pulisic is serving the justice you hate.
Shield on his chest, he’s the law on the wing,
When he strikes that ball, hear the stadium ring.
The keepers are tough the net is a vault,
If you’re walking away with a zero, it’s your fault.
We are not afraid, we don't care who you are,
We’re leaving you scattered, we’re raising the bar!
[Verse 3]
[Beat returns with full intensity: Drill + Samba + Funk guitar]
Balogun, he finish, he don’t leave a trace,
Freeman, he’s gone, man, he’s winnin’ the race.
We in the knockout, the pressure is high,
We lookin’ the giants straight in the eye.
You want the title? You gotta go through us,
We movin’ too fast, yeah, aint nothin’ to discuss.
From the group to the final, we takin’ it home,
The American Dream, yeah, we are one.
[Outro]
[Beat fades to just the Samba drums, repeat the chorus with energy]
Marc Ecstasy
We winning this…
2026.
We here.
[Beat cuts out abruptly]
MarcXTZ
