Intro]
Yeah…
KTP… Kody the Professor…
They don’t want you knowin’ the truth…
Burgergate, baby…
[Hook]
Ran a 6.6 in that forty-yard dash,
Boots still dirty, had a burger in my stash,
Cold beer sweating in my right hand grip,
Coach said “uncoachable”… still let it rip.
No warm-up drills, no stopwatch plan,
Just gravel lot speed and a don’t-care stance,
They whisper “Burgergate”… say the timing was shot,
6.6 flat, still king of the lot.
[Verse 1]
Pulled up late, truck rumblin’, no stretch, no stride,
Grease on my fingers, had a double on the side,
Fries in the console, salt on my jeans,
Didn’t lace tight, still outran dreams.
Coach Jon Sumrall shook his head, said “boy ain’t right,”
“Can’t teach that mess, he don’t listen, don’t fight,”
Kody just grinned, cracked a can with a hiss,
Said “I ain’t here to train… I’m built like this.”
[Hook]
Ran a 6.6 in that forty-yard dash,
Boots still dirty, had a burger in my stash,
Cold beer sweating in my right hand grip,
Coach said “uncoachable”… still let it rip.
No warm-up drills, no stopwatch plan,
Just gravel lot speed and a don’t-care stance,
They whisper “Burgergate”… say the timing was shot,
6.6 flat, still king of the lot.
[Verse 2]
Now the sideline talk got a whole new tone,
They say the clock man blinked, say the numbers got thrown,
“He was eatin’ that burger, man that time ain’t legit,”
But he lined back up like “run it again then, quit.”
Some say grease gave boost, some say beer slowed pace,
Some say conspiracy written all over that place,
But no camera angle ever proved them claims,
Just dust in the wind and a whole lotta blame.
[Bridge – Burgergate]
They call it Burgergate, late-night debate,
Was it beef or speed sealed that fate?
Stopwatch flickered, crowd got loud,
Kody just laughed at the doubting crowd.
“No prep, no plan, just me and the lot—
If you think it’s fake… come take my spot.”
[Hook]
Ran a 6.6 in that forty-yard dash,
Boots still dirty, had a burger in my stash,
Cold beer sweating in my right hand grip,
Coach said “uncoachable”… still let it rip.
No warm-up drills, no stopwatch plan,
Just gravel lot speed and a don’t-care stance,
They scream “Burgergate”… try to tear that plot,
6.6 flat, still king of the lot.
[Outro]
Yeah…
Let ‘em talk… let ‘em doubt…
Truth is simple…
Man showed up, ran his run…
And left without the crown.
SwampLife22414
