Gridiron Glory

Lil Neggy on dat

damn

beat

Coach Michael,

tell ’em how it happened

Boys, gather round, let me paint that field Back when a cold

November made a tough man yield One whole season,

I was built like a train Seven shoulder pads broke,

four helmets in the rain Didn’t need no trophy,

didn’t need no crown Just a whistle in my teeth and a

dare to throw down Every Friday night,

hear the stadium shake

I left a trail of cracked gear in my wake

Now y’all look at me like,

“Coach, that can’t be true”

I said, “Son, I was young once—just like you”

Michael’s got a story,

better pull up a chair Talkin’ ’bout the lights and the Friday-night

air

He says, “Keep your feet movin’,

keep your eyes on the play” Then he tells us one that

gets bigger every day From the small-town grass to the NFL sky

He took every hit and he still stood high If you wanna

know heart, if you wanna know grit Listen when Coach Michael starts

talkin’ ’bout it

Then he made the league,

under Sunday lights Big crowd roar,

fourth quarter, late-night fight A linebacker came through like a runaway truck

Hit him so hard every finger got shook Ball popped loose,

spun out in the rain Whole place went quiet like they called

his name Michael got up,

rolled his shoulders, checked his chin Said,

“You hit me once—now let’s see you do it again” He drove

that man back with a thunderin’ stride No helmets flew,

but the whole defense slid Then he scooped that ball and he

crossed that line “Never count out a coach who’s been through my

kind”

Players say, “Coach, was it really that wild?”

He says, “Maybe I’m rememberin’ it with a little style”

But when the whistle blows and the pressure gets loud You can

see that old Friday-night fire in the crowd Lil Neggy on dat

damn beat Seven pads,

four helmets,

one more fight Coach Michael’s story under Friday-night lights (yeah)