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just a friendly game of baseba

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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