Shout-out to Crush, Who B-Ball Hard, I'm Among the Many
You know that Filipino boy
All confidence and swagger,
I don't flatter this boy
He makes my eye-roll
But he held the ball hard,
Going nasty, grip a deadlock
Goes by three-shot, Stephen Curry
And break your ankle,
Cruisin' in that lay-up
All the Filipina fine chicks
Play demure on the bleachers
But secretly they're pining
If not already fawning over
Swooning the showcase of bravado
"Boy!" He shouts
Run through the speed, and bump
Fuck that, he chases the b-ball
Once caught, snap it all up
By three, steady twos
All girls cheer, going crazy for you
He plays hard, he balls hard
He either has a girlfriend
And a side-chick—he double time
If he sticks to one
You'd be sure, his girlfriend
Sits at the front row, fresh-faced
Pretty, unassuming darling, she is
Just chilling
And where other girls
Like me, stands back
I wink at this boy
He has a type
Sighs out, but still an eye-roll;
You play it good
Represent, here's a shout-out
You just know your thing
And I do, by upper bleachers
Say, yeah, home court or not
Take that trophy and cheers,
Go crush, my hands clap for you
