Luyện nghe bài hát Three Strikes You In

One mo strike and Im through,
It' s bottom of the swingin', for my life
Im up at the plate, goin' for the
got my mom's seated in section eight

Been on since my last felony
Im 0 for 2 mothafucka
the Louisville slugger Shay Whitie, that left hand punk
Is on the mound and he comin' with dat off-speed

It's the westside hustlaz, verses these LA
You can say the verses the nigs
My little in the dugout
lookin sad, 'cause fourteen niggas done struck-out

My offense was possession of weed
Now Im in the major and
That mothafucka Bill Clinton is a son of a
Had the nerve to throw out the pitch

Im tryin to get rich like trump
The home run king is now in a slump, pass me a
How the fuck can I out the pen
its one two three strikes you in

One two strikes you in
Now how the a nigga supposed
To out the pen, Im on a blend
Of Gin and Hen, of my life
With two strikes it aint

Hes in the up
Here come the I swing, aw shit, foul tip
They felt the chill 'cause if I get on
You know the deal a niggas to steal

to steal home and I betcha
That I can run over, the LA pig
Just Im black, with a bat
They send a nigga back to the warnin' track

Fulla count they say I amount to shit
But fool I can hit Kenny Grit
With a split in my on the cellular phone
Its going, going,

And watch a get served
You from the LA pigs I know you with a curve
Ay batter, batter is the
Im the designated hitter, a nigga much

Than babe ruth will I tell the truth and but the truth
yeah, Id rather be shootin hoops
'Cause a niggas to win
a bullshit loss and three strikes you in

Take me out to the ballgame, take me out to the
Another on trial
Keep ya peanuts jeezuh and fuck you Jack
I I never come back

I got to root for my
If they win its a shame
its one two three strikes you in
Twenty-five years of you know my name

They nigga to run and get hung
High strung, so pig can win the CY-young
Ima hit this mothafucka a
In the box, high as Steve Hal

You cant cap my gat
No strike 'cause rap is on the map
Im Satchel Paige wit a gauge
Or Robinson, when Im robbin one

Of you cracker fool Im a mothafuckin' vet
And yo seventh inning stretch, so
me out to the ballgame, and see my neighborhood name
In your ghetto hall of

One two three you in
Now how the fuck a supposed
To stay out the pen, Im on a
Of Gin and Hen, everyday of my
With two strikes it aint

One two strikes you in
Now how the fuck a nigga
To out the pen, Im on a blend
Of Gin and Hen, of my life
With two strikes it right

Yeah, it aint
Playin people like a it aint right
beings, puttin 'em in a jar it aint right
For double life, triple life it right

me out to the ballgame, take me out to the crowd
Another on trial
ya peanuts jeezuh and fuck you Cracker Jack
I hope I never come

I gots to root for my
If they win its a shame
'Cause its one two strikes you in
years of pain you know my name
You know my name, you my name
You know my name, you my name

If I die tonight, you who did it, you know
If I ride tonight, you know who did it, you
If they sheck me up, you know who did it, guess
If check my nuts, you know who did it, get em

If they break my bank, you who did it, yeah
If pull my rank, you know who did it, get em
If they me up, you know who did it, yeah
If they me up, you know who did it, get em

If smear my name, you know who did it
If they kill my game, you who did it
me, you know who did it
Wha what, wha what, you who did it