Just a Friendly Game of Baseball Songtext
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Just a Friendly Game of Baseball Songtext
Aww shit, another young brother hit
I better go over my man′s crib and get the pump
'Cause to the cops, shootin′ brothers is like playin' baseball
And they're never in a slump
I guess when they shoot up a crew it′s a grand slam
And when it′s one, it's a home run
But I′ma be ready with a wild pitch
My finger got a bad twitch, plus I wanna switch
Sides and step up to the batter's box
Fuck red and white, I got on black socks But let ′em shoot a person from the White Sox
What's the call? Foul ball!
Babe Ruth would′ve made a good cop, but he didn't
Instead he was a bigot, dig it
My life is valuable and I protect it like a gem
Instead of cops shootin' me, I′m goin′ out shootin' them
And let ′em cough up blood like phlegm
It's grim, but dead is my antonym
And legally, they can′t take a fall
Yo, check it out, it's just a friendly game of baseball
They gon′ shoot a black man in the face
They gon' shoot a black man in the face
R.B.I., real bad injury
But don't get happy, you′re in jail for a century
Just as bad as bein′ shot in the groin
To see who'll shoot ya, they′ll flip a coin
And watch him run for the stretch
But you don't know the man is at home waitin′ to make the catch
So the outfielder guns ya down
You're out, off to the dugout, underground
I know a cop that′s savage, his pockets stay green like cabbage
'Cause he has a good battin' average
No questions, just pulls out the flamer
And his excuses get lamer
Once, a brother tried to take a leave
But they shot him in his face sayin′ he was tryna steal a base
And people watch the news for coverage on the game
Hmm, and got the nerve to complain
They need to get themselves a front row seat
Or save the baseline for a beat
′Cause 'ell-o-vision just ain′t designed for precision, y'all
It′s just a friendly game of baseball
They gon' shoot a black man in the face
They gon′ shoot a black man in the face
Foolin', ain't you?
This ain′t America, is it?
Where can I be?
This ain′t America, is it?
Shut up, ho!
A cake caught on, but I don't know where the brother went
The umpires or the government
I guess they kicked him out the game
And replaced him with a pinch hitter
And the scammie was a quitter
So the cops usually torment, I mean tournament
Win ′em, I was sayin'
You can′t let the umpires hear you speakin' bad
Or like the other kids, you won′t be playin'
'Cause they′ll beat ya ′til your ass drop
A walkin' gun with a shell in his hand is their mascot
When you run around, let it be known to step lightly
The bases are loaded
My man got out from three strikes
In the skull, but the knife he was carryin′ was dull
Instead of innings, we have endings
What a fine way to win things
And hot dog vendors have fun
Sellin' you the cat, rat, and dog on a bun
And when you ask what is all of this called?
It′s just a friendly game of baseball
You lowlifes, you take that, and that, and that
I'm here to protect and serve, and that′s exactly what I'm gonna do
I better go over my man′s crib and get the pump
'Cause to the cops, shootin′ brothers is like playin' baseball
And they're never in a slump
I guess when they shoot up a crew it′s a grand slam
And when it′s one, it's a home run
But I′ma be ready with a wild pitch
My finger got a bad twitch, plus I wanna switch
Sides and step up to the batter's box
Fuck red and white, I got on black socks But let ′em shoot a person from the White Sox
What's the call? Foul ball!
Babe Ruth would′ve made a good cop, but he didn't
Instead he was a bigot, dig it
My life is valuable and I protect it like a gem
Instead of cops shootin' me, I′m goin′ out shootin' them
And let ′em cough up blood like phlegm
It's grim, but dead is my antonym
And legally, they can′t take a fall
Yo, check it out, it's just a friendly game of baseball
They gon′ shoot a black man in the face
They gon' shoot a black man in the face
R.B.I., real bad injury
But don't get happy, you′re in jail for a century
Just as bad as bein′ shot in the groin
To see who'll shoot ya, they′ll flip a coin
And watch him run for the stretch
But you don't know the man is at home waitin′ to make the catch
So the outfielder guns ya down
You're out, off to the dugout, underground
I know a cop that′s savage, his pockets stay green like cabbage
'Cause he has a good battin' average
No questions, just pulls out the flamer
And his excuses get lamer
Once, a brother tried to take a leave
But they shot him in his face sayin′ he was tryna steal a base
And people watch the news for coverage on the game
Hmm, and got the nerve to complain
They need to get themselves a front row seat
Or save the baseline for a beat
′Cause 'ell-o-vision just ain′t designed for precision, y'all
It′s just a friendly game of baseball
They gon' shoot a black man in the face
They gon′ shoot a black man in the face
Foolin', ain't you?
This ain′t America, is it?
Where can I be?
This ain′t America, is it?
Shut up, ho!
A cake caught on, but I don't know where the brother went
The umpires or the government
I guess they kicked him out the game
And replaced him with a pinch hitter
And the scammie was a quitter
So the cops usually torment, I mean tournament
Win ′em, I was sayin'
You can′t let the umpires hear you speakin' bad
Or like the other kids, you won′t be playin'
'Cause they′ll beat ya ′til your ass drop
A walkin' gun with a shell in his hand is their mascot
When you run around, let it be known to step lightly
The bases are loaded
My man got out from three strikes
In the skull, but the knife he was carryin′ was dull
Instead of innings, we have endings
What a fine way to win things
And hot dog vendors have fun
Sellin' you the cat, rat, and dog on a bun
And when you ask what is all of this called?
It′s just a friendly game of baseball
You lowlifes, you take that, and that, and that
I'm here to protect and serve, and that′s exactly what I'm gonna do
Writer(s): Kevin Mckenzie, Shawn Mckenzie, Paul Mitchell Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
