Dante - Negro Baseball League lyrics

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Dante - Negro Baseball League lyrics

[Intro] Check, check [Grand Puba] First batter up, first-first batter up [Verse 1 – ?] Now, enterin' the batter's box Is a guy who wears Champion socks and likes rings with rocks Throw up my middle finger to the umpire ‘Cause n***as 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 him 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 f** out Yo, sh** 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', “Oooh, he got the new sh**” I'm on his dick but that's an MC that come out with one bangin' hit” I split atoms, blow up as if I was atomic Labels talk so much sh**, 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 [Hook x2 – Grand Puba] First batter up. Well, here's the pitch that's a curve Second batter up because the first got served [Verse 2 – What? What?] From the kids in the batting cages to the pro players To the labels and the mob in the bleachers makin' waves Lookin' at the pitcher like, “Man, what gives?” They got one-arm fugitives throwin' with prosthetic limbs 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 sweat tricklin' down the back of my neck Tighten my grip on the bat, take a swing and it's a technical foul 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 Underlyin' stipulations playing underhanded ways It pays to have your representative stay Or you'll have top executives gettin' all possessive With your money and it's not funny But when loot is involved, all problems get solved Umm, maybe because you supply they c**aine fetish To finish this, this business ain't nothin' but corrupt Forget all this garbage—I'd rather play tennis [Hook x2 – Grand Puba] First batter up. Well, here's the pitch that's a curve Second batter up because the first got served [Verse 3 – Ocean] Baseball was never for Blacks It used to be a pastime for Whites Now it has mad Puerto Ricans But that's not the point of the song 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 [Tron?]. I said it and meant it If you cannot 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 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 with industry that's withering And what's left? Ocean's about to blow to smithereens I bring lyrical formats that you'll admire And to the Hall of Fame I will go when I retire They'll set your world afire. There is nobody to fear When every umpire, A&R is screamin' that, “You're outta here!” And to your amazement, a tax write-off is your replacement You gotta face it—there is no other crew adjacent With sounds from the basement, we rise We energize, to take over the whole enterprise By now, you realize that when we're in the place That we will come fat over piano and the ba** If you're lookin' for security, then you can end your chase Come home to Negro League and you'll be safe Baseball! [Outro] No doubt, Negro League is in the house No doubt, no doubt, knockin' runs out ‘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 I be doing my thing Hit a home run 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 I be doing my thing Hit the home run with the Negro League swing