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
They got my mom's seated in eight

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

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

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

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

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
two strikes it aint 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 deal a niggas to steal

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

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

And watch a pitcher get
You from the LA pigs I know you comin' with a
Ay batter, is the chitter-chatter
Im the designated hitter, a nigga much

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

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

I got to for my homeboys
If dont win its a shame
'Cause its one two three you in
years of pain you know my name

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

You salary 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 jacks Im a mothafuckin' vet
And fuck yo seventh stretch, so
Take me out to the ballgame, and see my neighborhood
In your ghetto hall of

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

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

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

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

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

If I die tonight, you know who did it, you
If I tonight, you know who did it, you know
If they me up, you know who did it, dont 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 sock me up, you know who did it, yeah
If they me up, you know who did it, get em

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