Yo
His palms are sweaty knees weak arms are heavy
Theres vomit on his sweater already moms spaghetti
Hes nervous but on the surface he looks calm and ready
To drop bombs but he keeps on forgettin
What he wrote down the whole crowd goes so loud
He opens his mouth but the words wont come out
Hes chokin how everybodys jokin now
The clocks run out times up over blaow