entire innings go by without a single run, 9 times out of 10 when someone does finally hit the ball it’s a foul.
WHY THE FRICK DOES EVERYONE JOG TO FIRST BASE? YOU FAT FRICKS RUN ONCE EVERY TWENTY MINUTES IDC IF IT IS MOST LIKELY AN OUT YOU CAN STILL TRY TO PRESSURE THE FIRST BASEMAN OR SOMETHING HOLY FRICK
SPEAKING OF FAT, WHY AM I SEEING MILLIONAIRE ATHLETES WITH FRICKING BEER GUTS?
Slow, boring, gay butt sport. I left during the seventh inning stretch, that fricking song sucks too frick you.
Huh
I'ma need a bigger bag for the cohort
Tryna make a millionaire out of slum dogs
Bet that, head crack, blunt force
Cozy with the east Africans up north
Where seven make a three, turn a ten by law
Crescent moon wink, when I blinked it was gone
Left the crib, smacked, no sheath on the sword
Made it by the skin of my teeth, thank God
'03, momma rockin' Liz Claiborne
Had her stressin' up the wall playin' Mary J. songs
Rainy day came, couldn't rinse the stains off
Long way to go, we already came far
Story stayed the same, it was never madе up
Threw me loose changе, look at what I made of it
When the mood change, I'ma poker-face 'em
It's a new day, who got all the aces?
Who be foldin' late? Who know when to play dead?
Who sit up straight when the roof caved in?
Had a full plate, you ain't wanna split it
Tell it to you straight, you ain't wanna listen
Cup runneth over the brim
Bust open, there's no closin' the lid
Drumroll, here go my lil' entrance
Gung ho, I'm the one that go get it
Five O's on me like the Olympics
Pure gold, somethin' told me, "Don't mix it"
Caught a feelin', momma had me out Temple
Not religious, we was really out Philly
Livin' on the fly tryna wing it
We got us a fire to rekindle
Redirect the fight where it's meant for
Triumph over plight and immense loss
Ride alone at night, I get clear thoughts
Caught a couple slights and I veered off
Saw another height, had my ears poppin'
Walked outside, it was still gorgeous
Sharp incisors reveal slowly
In the dark inside, we was real hungry
On a seven of the five, we was real hungry
Uh, niggas still drummin'
Foot shook ground when I stepped on it
Didn't look back when I broke soil
'Cause every time I did it would hurt more
In the dark inside, we was real hungry
On a seven of the five, we was real hungry
And I didn't look back when I broke soil
'Cause every time I did it would hurt more
Alright
Yessir, this nigga spittin'
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You appear to have extremely high, delusional expectations of burger sports. If you are disappointed now wait til you go watch a football game.
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