I got to root for my homeboys
They felt the chill 'cause if I get on first
Another nigga on trial
'Cause a niggas guaranteed to win
Another nigga on trial
Human beings, puttin’ 'em in a jar it ain’t right
I gots to root for my homeboys
I’m up at the plate, goin' for the gate
If they don’t win it’s a shame
I’m the designated hitter, a nigga much badder
If they kill my game, you know who did it
To stay out the pen, I’m on a blend
If they sock me up, you know who did it, yeah
My little homies in the dugout
I’m like Satchel Paige wit a gauge
In your ghetto hall of fame
You know my name, you know my name
Of Gin and Hen, everyday of my life
If they break my bank, you know who did it, yeah
To stay out the pen, I’m on a blend
Take me out to the ballgame, and see my neighborhood name
You can’t salary cap my gat
In the batters box, high as Steve Hal
Or Jackie Robinson, when I’m robbin’ one
Than babe ruth will I tell the truth and nothin' but the truth
They wanna send a nigga back to the warnin' track
I’ma hit this mothafucka a mile
I hope I never come back
'Cause it’s one two three strikes you in
I’m just tryin’ to get rich like trump
Here come the pitch I swing, aw shit, foul tip
It’s going, going, gone
'Cause it’s one two three strikes you in
Now how the fuck a nigga supposed
Playin’ people like a game it ain’t right
And fuck yo seventh inning stretch, so
Of Gin and Hen, everyday of my life
Just because I’m black, with a bat
To stay out the pen, I’m on a blend
You know the deal a niggas gets to steal
You know my name, you know my name
Twenty-five years of pain you know my name
My first offense was possession of weed
Of you cracker jacks fool I’m a mothafuckin' vet
He’s in the wind up
Had the nerve to throw out the first pitch
Now how the fuck a nigga supposed
If I ride tonight, you know who did it, you know
Now I’m in the major leagues and
But fool I can hit like Kenny Grit
That I can run over, the LA pig catcher
I’m that 0 for 2 mothafucka
If they don’t win it’s a shame
For double life, triple life it ain’t right
If they pull my rank, you know who did it, get ’em
If they smear my name, you know who did it
And watch a pitcher get served
If I die tonight, you know who did it, you know
I hope I never come back
Yeah, it ain’t right
Is on the mound and he comin' with dat off-speed junk
One two three strikes you in
With the Louisville slugger Shay Whitie, that left hand punk
Been on deck since my last felony
High strung, so this pig can win the CY-young
Hell yeah, I’d rather be shootin’ hoops
Fulla count they say I won’t amount to shit
With two strikes it ain’t right
They wanna nigga to run and get hung
One two three strikes you in
How the fuck can I stay out the pen
With two strikes it ain’t right
If they sheck me up, you know who did it, don’t guess
Now how the fuck a nigga supposed
That mothafucka Bill Clinton is a son of a bitch
The home run king is now in a slump, pass me a hunk
It's the westside hustlaz, verses these LA pigs
When it’s one two three strikes you in
They got my mom's seated in section eight
You from the LA pigs I know you comin' with a curve
With a split in my mouth on the cellular phone
You can say the damned verses the nigs
No strike 'cause gangsta rap is on the map
If they lock me up, you know who did it, get ’em
Of Gin and Hen, everyday of my life
They lookin’ sad, 'cause fourteen niggas done struck-out
Ay batter, batter is the chitter-chatter
One two three strikes you in
Like to steal home and I betcha
With two strikes it ain’t right
Against a bullshit loss and three strikes you in
Take me out to the ballgame, take me out to the crowd
Take me out to the ballgame, take me out to the crowd
If they check my nuts, you know who did it, get ’em
Keep ya peanuts jeezuh and fuck you Cracker Jack
Twenty-five years of pain you know my name
Remember me, you know who did it
Keep ya peanuts jeezuh and fuck you Cracker Jack
