| Song | Opening Day |
| Artist | Sammy Adams |
| Album | Boston's Boy |
| Yeah Wizzy | |
| The kid So undone | |
| Let's go Opening | |
| Day Coming soon... to you [Verse 1:] | |
| Zonin out, drift off with me | |
| I can't get the beat off of me | |
| I puffin blunts living pompously | |
| And if I had a million dollars, to be honest | |
| I'd be chilling in the same place | |
| I always be | |
| Ripping mic's cultivates my artistry | |
| And every breath | |
| I speak is a 100 percent a part of me | |
| They say “me rap†is like a major controversy | |
| And I'm confused | |
| I don't know who | |
| I ought to be | |
| But if you judge, hold a grudge or look off at me | |
| Your nose clog, peeps smell me like peppery | |
| And I'm so sorry that my mouth is like the potty | |
| Shit on mothafuckas, you know | |
| I came here | |
| TO PARTY! | |
| Partake in this game | |
| I swear to | |
| God, what | |
| I say is insane | |
| Out my two right speakers | |
| That's my left and right ears | |
| You want it, dog?! | |
| I get you like a beeper! | |
| The heater, | |
| I be the people's fuckin speaker | |
| Cause you know you hear me and | |
| I'm blastin out your speakers | |
| Different words, two words you know | |
| I am Aretha | |
| Franklin, mouthafucka how | |
| I blow this shit, ether [Hook:] | |
| Man, I think this feel like a classic | |
| Grab your lighters, yeah baby, and then you pass it | |
| And yeah, | |
| I wouldn't even call it rappin | |
| Cause fly with me, academy, you're speaking of the captain [Verse 2:] | |
| Why am I so in the zone | |
| Like every joint bounce off | |
| Logic Pro | |
| Gimme more space, five yards like they just got a hold | |
| Penalty or encroachment like you never know | |
| The soul burnin oyster that's forever glow | |
| And I know how they taste, they slide down my throat | |
| Yup, at the grill by my house and tied to the coach | |
| Lemon squeeze up on the side for this guys and broads | |
| That acknowledge that | |
| I'm in college but somehow | |
| I'm broke | |
| And home is nothing like it, there will never be | |
| When dudes say that you suck but know they feel the breeze | |
| When see those rainbows between they feet | |
| And all the bullshit they found fake was pedigree | |
| Purebred/pure bread, but some times | |
| I find it hard to eat | |
| From out of all the studying, blocking my nasty sleep | |
| But no voice, when your whole role is supposed to speak | |
| Looking in the mirror | |
| I'm itching to cop every sneak | |
| Yeah, new hoes, like, every week | |
| Yeah, they get to drill, the domin before they get to leave | |
| Yup, Eighties | |
| Baby t-shirts that they get to keep | |
| I'm stacked full from | |
| Alex and Geoff, thankfully | |
| And, my career cruised on cause every time | |
| I hand it | |
| You know this is gon' blowin | |
| I'm like Lohan | |
| Too much blow in my system | |
| And I can't be | |
| Sam But now | |
| I'm with man | |
| And I stay on my grind to the finish | |
| Finish, I feel it every bitch, every inch [Hook:] | |
| Man, I think this feel like a classic | |
| Grab your lighters, yeah baby, and then you pass it | |
| And yeah, | |
| I wouldn't even call it rappin | |
| Cause fly with me, academy, you're speaking of the captain | |
| Yeah, yeah the captain |
| Yeah Wizzy | |
| The kid So undone | |
| Let' s go Opening | |
| Day Coming soon... to you Verse 1: | |
| Zonin out, drift off with me | |
| I can' t get the beat off of me | |
| I puffin blunts living pompously | |
| And if I had a million dollars, to be honest | |
| I' d be chilling in the same place | |
| I always be | |
| Ripping mic' s cultivates my artistry | |
| And every breath | |
| I speak is a 100 percent a part of me | |
| They say me rap is like a major controversy | |
| And I' m confused | |
| I don' t know who | |
| I ought to be | |
| But if you judge, hold a grudge or look off at me | |
| Your nose clog, peeps smell me like peppery | |
| And I' m so sorry that my mouth is like the potty | |
| Shit on mothafuckas, you know | |
| I came here | |
| TO PARTY! | |
| Partake in this game | |
| I swear to | |
| God, what | |
| I say is insane | |
| Out my two right speakers | |
| That' s my left and right ears | |
| You want it, dog?! | |
| I get you like a beeper! | |
| The heater, | |
| I be the people' s fuckin speaker | |
| Cause you know you hear me and | |
| I' m blastin out your speakers | |
| Different words, two words you know | |
| I am Aretha | |
| Franklin, mouthafucka how | |
| I blow this shit, ether Hook: | |
| Man, I think this feel like a classic | |
| Grab your lighters, yeah baby, and then you pass it | |
| And yeah, | |
| I wouldn' t even call it rappin | |
| Cause fly with me, academy, you' re speaking of the captain Verse 2: | |
| Why am I so in the zone | |
| Like every joint bounce off | |
| Logic Pro | |
| Gimme more space, five yards like they just got a hold | |
| Penalty or encroachment like you never know | |
| The soul burnin oyster that' s forever glow | |
| And I know how they taste, they slide down my throat | |
| Yup, at the grill by my house and tied to the coach | |
| Lemon squeeze up on the side for this guys and broads | |
| That acknowledge that | |
| I' m in college but somehow | |
| I' m broke | |
| And home is nothing like it, there will never be | |
| When dudes say that you suck but know they feel the breeze | |
| When see those rainbows between they feet | |
| And all the bullshit they found fake was pedigree | |
| Purebred pure bread, but some times | |
| I find it hard to eat | |
| From out of all the studying, blocking my nasty sleep | |
| But no voice, when your whole role is supposed to speak | |
| Looking in the mirror | |
| I' m itching to cop every sneak | |
| Yeah, new hoes, like, every week | |
| Yeah, they get to drill, the domin before they get to leave | |
| Yup, Eighties | |
| Baby tshirts that they get to keep | |
| I' m stacked full from | |
| Alex and Geoff, thankfully | |
| And, my career cruised on cause every time | |
| I hand it | |
| You know this is gon' blowin | |
| I' m like Lohan | |
| Too much blow in my system | |
| And I can' t be | |
| Sam But now | |
| I' m with man | |
| And I stay on my grind to the finish | |
| Finish, I feel it every bitch, every inch Hook: | |
| Man, I think this feel like a classic | |
| Grab your lighters, yeah baby, and then you pass it | |
| And yeah, | |
| I wouldn' t even call it rappin | |
| Cause fly with me, academy, you' re speaking of the captain | |
| Yeah, yeah the captain |