[blam] 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'm on the switch
    side  and step up to the batter's box
 Fuck red and white, I got on Black Sox
 But let him shoot a person from the White Sox
 What's the call? Foul ball!
 Babe Ruth woulda 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 gettin me I'm goin out gettin them
 And let em cough up blood like phlegm
 It's grim [blam blam] 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

 Verse Two:

 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 you 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 batting average
 No questions, just pulls out the flamer
 [blam] And his excuses get lamer
 Once a brother tried to take a leave
 But they shot him in his face sayin he was tryin to 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 sink a baseline for a beat
 Cause television just ain't designed for precision y'all
 It's just a friendly game of baseball

 Verse Three:

 A kid caught on, but I don't know where the brother went
 The umpires are the government
 I guess they took him out the game, and replace him
 with a pinch-hitter, in the scam he was a quitter
 So the cops usually torment, I mean tournament
 Win em I was sayin
 You can't let the umpires, hear ya speak and battle
 like the other kid you won't be playin
 Cause they'll beat you til your ass drop
 A walking gun with a shell in his hand is their mascot
 And when they walk 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 carrying 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