Three Strikes You In

One mo` strike and I`m through, nigga<br>Bottom of the ninth swingin, for my life<br>I`m up at the plate, goin for the gate<br>They got my moms seated in section eight<br>Been on deck since my last felony <br>I`m that 0 for 2 mothafucka <br>With the Louisville Slugger<br>Shay Whitie, that left hand punk<br>is on the mound and he comin wit dat off-speed junk<br>Its the Westside Hustlaz, vs these LA Pigs<br>You can say the damned vs the nigs<br>My little homies in the dugout<br>They lookin` sad, cuz fourteen niggas done struck-out<br>My first offense was possession of weed<br>Now I`m in the major leagues and<br>that mothafucka Bill Clinton-is a son of a bitch<br>had the nerve to throw out the first pitch <br>I`m just tryin` to get rich like Trump<br>The Home Run king is now in a slump, pass me a hunk<br>How the fuck can I stay out the pen<br>When its one-two-three strikes you in<br><br>Chorus:<br><br>One-two three strikes you in<br>Now how the fuck a nigga supposed <br>to stay out the pen, I`m on a blend<br>of Gin and Hen, everyday of my life<br>With two strikes it ain`t right<br><br><br>He`s in the wind-up<br>Here come the pitch<br>I swing, aw shit (foul tip)<br>They felt the chill cuz if I get on first<br>You know the deal - a niggas gots to steal<br>Like to steal home and I betcha<br>That I can run over, the LA Pig catcher<br>Just because I`m black, wit a bat<br>They wanna send a nigga back to the warning track<br>fulla count they say I won`t amount to shit<br>But fool I can hit like Kenny Grit<br>With a split in my mouth on tha cellular phone<br>(It`s going, going, gone!)<br>And watch a pitcher get served<br>You from tha LA Pigs <br>I know you coming with a curve<br>Ay batter, batter is the chitter-chatter<br>I`m the designated hitter, a nigga<br>much badder, than Babe Ruth<br>Will I tell the truth and nothing but the truth<br>Hell yea, I`d rather be shootin` hoops<br>Cuz a niggas guaranteed to win <br>Against a bullshit loss and three strikes you in<br><br>Take me out to the ballgame <br>Take me out to the crowd (wha what, wha what)<br>Another nigga on trial<br>Keep ya peanuts Jeezuh<br>And fuck you Cracker Jack<br>I hope I never come back<br><br>I gots to root for my homeboys<br>If they dont win its a shame<br>Cuz its one-two-three strikes you in<br>twenty-five years of pain you know my name<br><br>They wanna nigga to run and get hung<br>high strung, so this pig can win the Cy-Young<br>I`ma hit this mothafucka a mile<br>In the batters box, high as Steve Hal<br>You can`t salary cap my gat<br>No strike, cuz gangsta-rap is on the map<br>I`m like Satchel Paige wit a gauge<br>Or Jackie Robinson, when I`m robbin` one <br>of you Cracker Jacks fool I`m a mothafuckin vet<br>And fuck yo seventh-inning stretch, so<br>Take me out to the ballgame,<br>and see my neighborhood name<br>In your Ghetto Hall of Fame<br><br>Chorus x 3<br><br>Yea (It ain`t right)<br>Playin` people like a game (It aint right)<br>Human beings, puttin` em in a jar (It aint right)<br>for double life, triple life (It aint right)<br><br>Take me out to the ballgame <br>Take me out to the crowd (wha what, wha what)<br>Another nigga on trial<br>Keep ya peanuts Jeezuh<br>And fuck you Cracker Jack <br>I hope I never come back<br><br>I gots to root for my homeboys<br>If they dont win its a shame<br>Cuz its one-two-three strikes you in<br>twenty-five years of pain you know my name<br><br>You know my name (wha what, wha what) x 4<br><br>If I die tonight, you know who did it (you know)<br>If I ride tonight, you know who did it (you know)<br>If they sheck me up, you know who did it (don`t guess)<br>If they check my nuts, you know who did it (get `em)<br>If they break my bank, you know who did it (yea)<br>If they pull my rank, you know who did it (get `em)<br>If they sock me up, you know who did it (yea)<br>If they lock me up, you know who did it (get `em)<br>If they smear my name, you know who did it <br>If they kill my game, you know who did it<br>Remember me (you know who did it)<br>Wha what, wha what (you know who did it)