Lyrics
[Intro lively banjo picking, playful rhythm]
Welcome to Austin’s Fantasy League, where we all take our shot,
Austin’s the GOAT, our commish on top,
He won that first title, back in the day,
But he hasn’t been back since, just letting us play.
Trent’s been stuck in the middle, can’t reach the crown,
Always mid, but always lets us down,
Edie’s got rings, but took a big fall,
Did stand-up for last place, now he’s laughing at us all.
[Chorus with rowdy energy]
If you’re not ready for battle, then you better fuckin’ kneel,
Step up or get wrecked, it’s your ass that we’ll mourn,
In Austin’s league, it’s all about the thrill,
We’re here for the glory, or we’ll face the scorn.
Mitch had that lemonade stand out in DC,
Selling sweet dreams, but his fantasy’s still free,
Shawn’s Packers are his pride, but just like his team,
They get close to the gold, then fade like a dream.
Reece’s team is a storm, bringing the heat,
He’s a weather-loving man, his wins are neat,
Jordan’s riding high on that Eagle’s flight,
Got a championship glow, and he’s feeling all right.
[Chorus with extra kick, stomping beat]
If you’re not ready for battle, then you better fuckin’ kneel,
Step up or get wrecked, it’s your ass that we’ll mourn,
In Austin’s league, we’re after the kill,
Championship dreams, or we’re dead and forlorn.
[Bridge with a playful twang]
Griff’s been missing since 2018,
But we remember the year he lived the dream,
Pat’s the rookie, coming in hot,
He’s aiming to prove he’s more than just talk.
TJ’s got stocks, hoping they’ll rise,
But it’s his fantasy team that needs the prize,
Austin’s the GOAT, our commish for life,
Keeping us battling, through all the strife.
[Chorus final with crowd sing-along vibe]
If you’re not ready for battle, then you better fuckin’ kneel,
Step up or get wrecked, it’s your ass that we’ll mourn,
In Austin’s league, we’re the real deal,
Chasing that trophy, until the early morn’.
[Outro with harmonica and fading laughter]
So here’s to Austin’s, where legends are born,
We fight for the top, and we laugh at the torn,
Austin’s our commish, and we’re all in the game,
But in the end, it’s the glory we claim.