Now here’s a little story I gots to tell,
about three bad brothers you know so well.
It started way back in history with Dan Gilbert, LBJ and me, Mike B.
I had a little horsey named Cavaliers.
Just me and my horsey and a quart of beer.
Ridin’ cross the land, kickin’ up sand.
ESPN’s posses on our tail cuz we in demand.
One lonely city we be,
all by ourself without no ringz.
The sun is beatin’ down on Dan’s baseball hat.
The air is gettin’ hot, the press is gettin’ mad.
Lookin’ for a star, I ran into a guy.
His name is LBJ, I said "howdy", he said "hi."
He told a little story that sounded well rehearsed.
Four years in Miami and now he’s dying of thirst.
The brew was in my hand, and he was on my tip.
His voice was hoarse, his throat was dry, he asked me for a sip.
He said "Can I get some?"
I said "You can’t get none."
I had a chance to run,
but he pulled out his shotgun.
Quick on the draw, I thought I’d be dead.
He put the gun to my head and this is what he said:
"My name is LBJ, I got a license to thrill.
I think you know what time it is, it’s time to get ill.
So what do we have here?
An outlaw and his beer.
I run this land, you understand, I’ve made myself clear."
We stepped into the wind, he had a gun, I had a grin.
As if this story’s over, but it’s ready to begin.
"I’ve got the gun, you’ve got the brew.
You’ve got two choices of what you can do.
It’s not a tough descision as you can see.
I can blow you away or you can ride with me."
I said, "I’ll ride with you if you can get me to the finals.
The press is after me for what I did to our offense.
I did it like this, I did it like that.
I did it with Larry on the mat.
So I’m on the run, Danny Ferry’s time is done.
Right about now it’s time for Byron.
The King Dan G, that is my name,
and I know the fly spot where they got the champagne."
We rode for six hours then we hit the spot.
The beat was-a-bumpin’ and the girlies was hot.
This dude was starin’ like he knows who we are,
so we took the empty spot next to him at the bar.
LBJ said "Yo, you know this kid?"
I said I didn’t but I knew he did.
The kid said, "Get ready, cuz this ain’t funny.
My name is Mike B and I’m bout to get money."
He pulled out his chew, aimed it at the sky.
He yelled, where’s my spitter?! and let two fly.
Hands went up and press hit the floor.
He pointed to Kenny Roda, sitting back by the door.
"I’m Mike B and I get respect.
Your wins and your ringz are what I expect."
LBJ was with it, and he’s my ace,
so I grabbed Byron Scott and punched him in the face.
The old coach is out, the losing’s stopped.
Boobie had beef, and he got dropped.
Mike B grabbed the money, LBJ snatched the gold.
I grabbed two girlies and a beer that’s cold.