[Intro: bleacher stomps, one whistle] Step on the mat [Hook: fierce female rapper, team stomps and shouts the answers] Don't you forfeit (step on the mat!) Nine pounds in a spit cup, and I want every ounce back Don't you hand me a win with a footnote in the paper Shake my hand (shake it!), then I fold you like a lawn chair. Later [Verse 1: female rapper, hungry, every word bitten off] Mat burn on the cheekbone, ringworm on the collarbone Left ear cauliflowered, so your coach is on monotone Spittin' in a cup through history, trash bag under my sweats Ran the bleachers till I passed, and I don't mean the test Three boys looked at the bracket this year, saw my name, and sat One said, "Church." One said, "Daddy." One just said, "Not that" Paper printed "forfeit" in the little letters by my name Like I won the shit in a raffle. Like it ain't the same [Flow switch: triple-time, a scramble] Shot, sprawl, crossface, scramble, I'm a riddle on the mat Stand-up, cut, switch, I'm behind you 'fore you know where you at Half nelson, tilt it, hold it, count it, two, three, four, five, back points I don't do the pretty shots. I do the ugly ones. I grind joints [Hook: team stomps and shouts the answers] Don't you forfeit (step on the mat!) Nine pounds in a spit cup, and I want every ounce back Don't you hand me a win with a footnote in the paper Shake my hand (shake it!), then I fold you like a lawn chair. Later [Verse 2: female rapper, the state semifinal, low and loaded] State semis, packed gym, popcorn and a hum Bracket says Mercer. Coach's boy. The "Daddy" one His daddy in the corner with a towel in his fist Mouthin' to him, "Walk away, son. It ain't worth the risk" Whole gym leanin' forward on the bleachers like a held breath Ten seconds. Twenty. Then he dropped the towel, snapped his headgear, stepped [Flow switch: half-time, she breathes between the lines] Shook my hand. Eyes up. First boy all year Looked at me like a wrestler, not a rumor, not a fear Said, "I'm sorry 'bout November." I said, "Sorry don't score Get in your fuckin' stance." And the bleachers hit the floor [Beat Switch: drums drop to breathing, sneaker squeaks and a hand slappin' the mat, then the drums explode] Third period, down by one, and he's ridin' me like a coat Clock in my head says ten, and the crowd is countin' in my throat Five, sit-out. Four, turn in. Three, he reaches. Two, I'm gone One. Reversal. Two points. Buzzer. Five to four. Come on! [Verse 3: female rapper, fast and victorious] Ref raised my hand, and that boy grabbed the other one and raised it too His daddy finally threw the towel. Nine months late. Hit a kid in row two Some girl in a ponytail in row nine wrote my name on her wrist That's the only footnote I'm keepin', and I'm keepin' it like this [Final Hook: female rapper, team on every line] He didn't forfeit (step on the mat!) Nine pounds in a spit cup, and I got every ounce back Five to four in the big print, no footnote in the paper Shook my hand (shook it!), then I folded him like a lawn chair. Later [Outro: one whistle, the stomps stop dead]
