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Исполнитель: Ice Cube
Название песни: Three Strikes You In
Текст песни добавил: Dima
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Ice Cube - Three Strikes You In текст песни, lyrics

One mo' strike and I'm through, nigga 
Bottom of the ninth swingin, for my life 
I'm up at the plate, goin for the gate 
They got my moms seated in section eight 
Been on deck since my last felony 
I'm that 0 for 2 mothafucka 
With the Louisville Slugger 
Shay Whitie, that left hand punk 
is on the mound and he comin wit dat off-speed junk 
Its the Westside Hustlaz, vs these LA Pigs 
You can say the damned vs the nigs 
My little homies in the dugout 
They lookin' sad, cuz fourteen niggas done struck-out 
My first offense was possession of weed 
Now I'm in the major leagues and 
that mothafucka Bill Clinton-is a son of a bitch 
had the nerve to throw out the first pitch 
I'm just tryin' to get rich like Trump 
The Home Run king is now in a slump, pass me a hunk 
How the fuck can I stay out the pen 
When its one-two-three strikes you in 

Chorus: 

One-two three strikes you in 
Now how the fuck a nigga supposed 
to stay out the pen, I'm on a blend 
of Gin and Hen, everyday of my life 
With two strikes it ain't right 


He's in the wind-up 
Here come the pitch 
I swing, aw shit (foul tip) 
They felt the chill cuz if I get on first 
You know the deal - a niggas gots to steal 
Like to steal home and I betcha 
That I can run over, the LA Pig catcher 
Just because I'm black, wit a bat 
They wanna send a nigga back to the warning track 
fulla count they say I won't amount to shit 
But fool I can hit like Kenny Grit 
With a split in my mouth on tha cellular phone 
(It's going, going, gone!) 
And watch a pitcher get served 
You from tha LA Pigs 
I know you coming with a curve 
Ay batter, batter is the chitter-chatter 
I'm the designated hitter, a nigga 
much badder, than Babe Ruth 
Will I tell the truth and nothing but the truth 
Hell yea, I'd rather be shootin' hoops 
Cuz a niggas guaranteed to win 
Against a bullshit loss and three strikes you in 

Take me out to the ballgame 
Take me out to the crowd (wha what, wha what) 
Another nigga on trial 
Keep ya peanuts Jeezuh 
And fuck you Cracker Jack 
I hope I never come back 

I gots to root for my homeboys 
If they dont win its a shame 
Cuz its one-two-three strikes you in 
twenty-five years of pain you know my name 

They wanna nigga to run and get hung 
high strung, so this pig can win the Cy-Young 
I'ma hit this mothafucka a mile 
In the batters box, high as Steve Hal 
You can't salary cap my gat 
No strike, cuz gangsta-rap is on the map 
I'm like Satchel Paige wit a gauge 
Or Jackie Robinson, when I'm robbin' one 
of you Cracker Jacks fool I'm a mothafuckin vet 
And fuck yo seventh-inning stretch, so 
Take me out to the ballgame, 
and see my neighborhood name 
In your Ghetto Hall of Fame 

Chorus x 3 

Yea (It ain't right) 
Playin' people like a game (It aint right) 
Human beings, puttin' em in a jar (It aint right) 
for double life, triple life (It aint right) 

Take me out to the ballgame 
Take me out to the crowd (wha what, wha what) 
Another nigga on trial 
Keep ya peanuts Jeezuh 
And fuck you Cracker Jack 
I hope I never come back 

I gots to root for my homeboys 
If they dont win its a shame 
Cuz its one-two-three strikes you in 
twenty-five years of pain you know my name 

You know my name (wha what, wha what) x 4 

If I die tonight, you know who did it (you know) 
If I ride tonight, you know who did it (you know) 
If they sheck me up, you know who did it (don't guess) 
If they check my nuts, you know who did it (get 'em) 
If they break my bank, you know who did it (yea) 
If they pull my rank, you know who did it (get 'em) 
If they sock me up, you know who did it (yea) 
If they lock me up, you know who did it (get 'em) 
If they smear my name, you know who did it 
If they kill my game, you know who did it 
Remember me (you know who did it) 
Wha what, wha what (you know who did it)

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