It's on tonight, boy
I've been waiting all week for this moment
First thing I thought about in the morning
Then fantasized about before going to sleep
Locking you up all night long
I overheard your coach in the locker room
He thinks you can guard me
He's got you assigned on me all night
Saying I'm not that hard to figure out
And that you can easily compete with me
I take small things like that personal
So sadly for your sake
I'm scorching you all forty
With all due respect
I don't care if your girl's in the crowd...
Your mama...
Your high-business daddy...
You don't want it badly like I do
It's on my guy
Right as we come out the locker rooms
Jogging out with my teammates for warm-up
I spot you across the other side of the gym
Laughing around and joking with your teammates
Throwing up lazy, tedious shots
I'm already sizing you up
Without you even knowing it
Like an eagle spotting its prey
Soaring over a layer of water
Snatching the salmon with its powerful claws
I'm getting loose and stretching
Never taking my eyes off you
Thinking about what your coach said earlier
We form into layup lines
You start taking it more serious
Knowing your coaches won't approve if you set a poor example
Me still watching you like a hawk
It's then you start making eye contact with me
After laying the ball in and jogging back to touch the halfcourt line
I purposely wait to meet you at halfcourt each time
Already playing mind games with you
Getting inside your head psychologically
You make sure to make eye contact, too
You don't want to come across intimidated
But your eyes always leave contact within a few seconds
Looking down and hiding your gaze
This is when your heart rate slowly picks up
The blood begins to rush through your veins
You realize I'm not playing around
How serious and passionate I am about all this
Once again you convince yourself you're not intimidated
But really it's not even intimidation
It's just how I express myself on the court
Like a painter taking away their talents
Grieving in the process of beauty
Regardless, you feel my presence
With every second counting down until tip-off
Our coaches finally call us in
The last huddle and pep talk before start time
We eye each other one more time
He hypes you up and reminds that I can't guard you
But you're already a split second behind me
Already overthinking things
Contemplating if you really have what it takes
The referee calls us to the jumpball
Throwing it in the air and blowing the whistle
Now it's really on
You receive the ball from your big man winning the tip
But like I already said
You're a split second behind me
I'm down in a stance as the crowd cheers on
Again, this is personal between you and me
I gradually start causing you turnovers
I begin to make you throw up forced shots
And have you questioning your ability the entire time
I lock you down entirely
You don't even get to the foul line
You try and catch your breath at half time
But can see me watching you out the corner of my eye
Refusing to take pity on you until the full forty is up
By the end of the night, we've all scorched you
Blowing you out by twenty
Sending your fans home in bitter disappointment
At this point you think I have a cold hatred for you
That I don't respect you
And I'm just a Jack ass who preys on the weak
I then go and approach you
Giving you and handshake
Revealing that I don't really hate you
And that I'm just challenging you to be the best version of yourself
As I would hope you do the same for me
I give you a pat on the butt
Which sounds odd, but a common thing for guys in sports
And tell you to keep your head up
We shake hands once more and go out separate ways
Both just living out our hoop dreams while they last
And no matter how hard it gets
No matter how deep the battle
It's always okay
As long as it stays
On The Court
