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, for the gate
got my mom's seated in section eight

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fulla count say I wont amount to shit
But fool I can hit like Grit
With a split in my mouth on the cellular
Its going, going,

And a pitcher get served
You from the LA pigs I know you with a curve
Ay batter, is the chitter-chatter
Im the designated hitter, a much badder

babe ruth will I tell the truth and nothin' but the truth
Hell yeah, Id be shootin hoops
a niggas guaranteed to win
Against a loss and three strikes you in

Take me out to the ballgame, me out to the crowd
Another nigga on
Keep ya jeezuh and fuck you Cracker Jack
I hope I never come

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

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

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

Of you cracker jacks Im a mothafuckin' vet
And fuck yo 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 a nigga supposed
To out the pen, Im on a blend
Of Gin and Hen, of my life
With two it aint right

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

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

Take me out to the ballgame, me out to the crowd
Another on trial
Keep ya jeezuh and fuck you Cracker Jack
I hope I come back

I gots to for my homeboys
If they win its a shame
its one two three strikes you in
Twenty-five of pain you know my name
You know my name, you my name
You my name, you know 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, dont
If they check my nuts, you who did it, get em

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

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