Skillz - 99 Freethrows lyrics

When you at the foul line I
Feel bad for you son
You could shoot 99 free throws
And wouldn't hit one

Now with Shaq at the line
He wastin' his time
Buildin' a mansion, one brick at a time
You might make a few if you practice some mo'
0-for-30?! What kinda stats are those
You ain't hittin' sorta like
Your raps and flows
Lookin' stupid leanin' up on your tippy toes
Is it goin' in? Nooo!
It's at the back of the board
Phil Jackson on the bench like, "Damn
Good Lord" i blaze flows, beef with Diesel
I know you bigger than me, but
I don't give a shit, so
Act bad and I'll embarrass your wack ass
I did this in the day, you
Know I lay track fast, sucker
I don't know what you take me as
Understand the intelligence that
Young Skillz has
You got riches dawg, I ain't dumb
But outta 99 free throws, you might hit one
(hit me)

(Haha, yeah, uhh)
99 free throws and won't hit one
When you at the foul line I
Feel bad for you son (yeah)
You could shoot 99 free throws
And wouldn't hit one (haha, yeah)

Now you 0-for-4 tryin' to even the score
Sweatin' on the line, underarm smellin' raw
All eyes on you, you feelin' unsure
Jack Nicholson smilin' court side
By the floor you ain't tryin' to shoot what
You might not make
The truth is, the league pay you so much cake
So you go to the huddle
With Phil flappin' his jaws like "Shaq
You know why I called a timeout for?'
: Cause
I'm big and I'm dumb and I'm 0-for-forty fo'?
Do I like smart Phil? Hell, I don't know
You gon' take me out the game
Or should I guess some more?"
"We all know your IQ is 34
I done told you before that Kobe's the star
And if you make these free throws
Then I'll buy you a car"
Man I'm quick not to hit
Y'all know that shit
Matter fact check the goal
I think the rim is tripped
Man I know I'm right, just believe in Shaq
If the rim ain't broke in the front
Then check the back
So you go back to the line
Ready to press your luck
You don't even bend your knees
You just throw that shit up
Look like it might hit
It's more close than far
But it don't, sold out house goin', "Awwwww"

Now once upon a time not too long ago
A rappin' ballplayer tried to diss
Me in his flow
Not a rapper ballplayer in the
Sense he could rap
Well, actually, none of ‘em are
Really good at that, but
I tried to ignore him
Overlook his lil' caper
But, I'm in New York yo and
I see it in the paper you know the type
They got cases on they hype
Got a bunch of yes-men tellin'
Them they shit is tight
Only thing is gon' happen is
I'ma get to rappin'
And endin' this boys' gon'
Be sweeter than saccharin
And there I go endin' a career again
Puttin' somethin' devastatin' in
Your ear again
When they gon' learn that my only concern
Is how much dough I earn and
How many MCs I burn?
Shaq you wack and that's from the heart son
You could shoot 100 free throws
And you wouldn't hit one