Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Negro League, Baseball, artist - Natural Resource
Date of issue: 20.01.1998
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Negro League, Baseball |
Check it, check it First batter up, first-first batter up -→Grand Puba |
Now, entering the batter’s box |
is a guy who wears Ch&ion socks and likes rings with rocks |
Throw up my middle finger to the umpire |
cause niggaz just choosin the new talent just, need to retire |
Check the signals from my manager, the first base coach |
He’s throwin signs, tellin me the label’s just, playin cutthroat |
Yo, I hit em with a tape or should I say I take a check swing |
I hear the crowd sing, go meet Plug and the telephone ring |
He says I need more beats, wait a minute, no doubt |
My temper runs out, three pitches later, I strike the fuck out |
Yo, shit like this happens to the real MC’s |
Because the labels wanna sign up the commercial wannabes |
and if, it ain’t that, it’s just a little bit more, sayin |
Umm, can you put on a screwface and scream lyrics that’s hardcore? |
I adore, this whole rap persona, but some of you A&R's |
must be mixin coke witcha marijuana, talkin |
I’m on his dick but that’s an MC that come out with one baby hit |
I split atoms, blow up as if I was atomic |
Labels talk so much shit yo I laugh at them like they was comics |
Check the scoreboard, we’re up by one |
Two more hitters to go, and the song ain’t even done, Baseball. |
First batter up well here’s the pitch that’s a curve |
Second batter up because the first got served -→Grand Puba |
From the kids in the batting cages to the pro players (What What) |
to the labels and the mob and the beaches making waves (What What) |
Looking at the pitcher like, Man what gives? |
They got one-arm fugitives throwin with prosthetic limbs (Ewwww!) |
? look from the team to the umpire means that the |
man got demoted from stadiums to refereein gyms |
Synonyms from big cheese to the independent label couldn’t |
pay up they debt so they got cut like unpaid cable |
B. E. I. S. |
B-O-L, accent on the 'O', GOALLLL! |
Feel the sweat trickling down the back of my neck |
Tighten my grip on the bat, take a swing |
and it’s a technical foul… (wait a minute) |
Nah… that’s… basketball… whatever, good call |
How come when black men hit the field, they were throwin bottles |
now they throwin million dollar deals |
When I steal bases I do it with pride |
for Jackie Robinson certified, forerunner for us Homeruns we must, hit em straight out the ballpark |
I’m not patriotic, so I won’t sing the National |
Underlying stipulations playing underhanded ways |
It pays to have your representative stay |
or you’ll have, top executives gettin all possesive |
of your money, and it’s not funny |
But when uhh loot is involved all problems get solved |
Umm, maybe because you supply they cocaine fetish? |
To finish this, this business ain’t nothin but corrupt |
Forget all this garbage, I’d rather play tennis |
First batter up well here’s the pitch that’s a curve |
Second batter up because the first got served -→Grand Puba |
Baseball was never for blacks (what?) |
It used to be a pasttime for whites (That's true) |
Now it has mad Puerto Ricans |
but that’s not the point of the song (A-ight) |
The point of the song and I make it mad simple |
when I be flippin this script |
is that the industry is all over the mound |
pitchin but nobody’s makin any hits, hmm |
Baseball is not just a sport |
It’s the verbal, mental, physical, spiritual |
emotional level that we are on It’s about time that all you devils was gone |
? like charm, I said it and meant it If you can not handle it then for your ears it’s not intended |
You can play the documented, all athletes quoted |
Cause when you speak to be exploited then your spot will get exploded |
Bases are loaded, but there is no RBI’s in the stadium |
where players try, to be hard as titanium |
I got your cranium movin, when I be showin and provin |
Now you fear, that your career, is goin down the tubes |
and it’ll be, along industry, that’s withering |
and was left oceans, about to blow to smithereens |
I bring, lyrical formats that you’ll admire |
And to the Hall of Fame I’m going when I retire |
They’ll set your world afire, there is nobody to fear |
when every umpire and A&R is screamin that YOU’RE OUTTA HERE |
And to your amazement, a tax writeoff is your replacement |
You gotta face it, there is no other crew adjacent |
With sounds from the basement, we rise |
We energize, to take up the whole enterprise |
By now you realize, that when we’re in the place |
That we will come fat, over piano and the bass |
If you’re lookin for security then you can end your chase |
Come home, to Negro League, and you’ll be safe. Baseball |
No doubt, Negro League is in the house |
No doubt, no doubt, knockin runs outs |
Cause we do it like this, we do it like that |
(?)I was rockin stage just like to a bat (?) |
(?)Sent to home back when umm, be doing my thing (?) |
Hit a homerun, with the Negro League theme |
Do it like this, do it like that |
(?)I was rockin stage just like to a bat (?) |
(?)Sent to home back when umm, be doing my thing (?) |
Hit the homerun with the Negro League swing |