Major League lyrics

Artist  : Rasco 
Song : Major League



 Send "Major League" Ringtone to your Cell 

 

featuring Defari and Dilated
Peoples


Don't front
So many
claim the fame but never see the day
When
lyrically they could even run in the Triple
A's
This here's the major leagues where big
hits are guaranteed
The Ken Griffey turbo 850
professional MC
One more time that cat
Defari
With a sting operation so blatant we
call it franchise
Man sign independent on some
enterprise
It's time to shoot straight,
innovate, and make the world realize
That mics
get ripped, and spots get blown
I strive to be
a Golden State all-time great, like J-Ro
I
gets burned when the Technics turn on mix shows
and mix tapes
That you hear when a car turns
left on the street
You know that shit that
make you bounce
'Nuf respect to Rasco and
Evidence
Yo hold it down on the mound
I'm
not like Hideo, don't got it Nomo
I'm more
like Randy Johnson, guaranteed heat for
sure

Yo this that where the big hits are
guaranteed
This ain't no minor league affair
this here the major leagues
You in the
batter's box ready for combat (what?)
But when
you step up to the plate better bring it
fat


I throw spitballs and
sliders, and hit batters with attitude
The
signal's in, and my catcher's 'Fari Herut
I
got to risin on the mound, talkin at
pen-point
Retire the side, put on a jacket,
ice my joints
And body parts, world-wide,
Evidence is known
Have you fallin out the
batter's box when curves are thrown
Precise
angles, I disect the strategy, no cost
And
just 'cause I choose to wander don't mean I'm
lost
I got the button-up jersrey, Dilated
written in cursive
I spill my heart to wax and
put the in the open
Three men against nine
players, yo, that shit's unheard of
Plus my
eyes are open in takin' folks
One cat got on
base but he didn't learn his lesson
I faked to
first and picked him off at second
Patience is
a virtue, yo he couldn't understand
That cat's
out, time waits for no man
Bust it

Don't
front
This where the big hits are
guaranteed
This ain't no minor league affair
this here the major leagues
You in the
batter's box ready for combat (what?)
But when
you step up to the plate


It be
the large caliber rhyme
Ask yourself why
try
Microphone slash Rasco Defari
Evidence,
rhymes that set the precedence
Straight out the
box, MCs to bobby sox
Major league, set to
intrigue you small fee
Nothin' to the game, we
doused them small flames
Take names
Head for
the fence, we track prints
Track down the
scent, then fold your whole tent
Stay
bent
The illest on rhymes at all times
Call
your bullpen, Rasco just pulled into the lot
Be
strikin em out with one shot
While your pitch
be hittin the plate at one spot
Down the
pipe
The major lieutenant that earn
stripes
Bet strap in, cadet to
captain
Stand up, better yet, put them hands
up
And watch the triple threat come fuck them
plans up
Smack niggas, with lyrical gems that
sayin hymns
Niggas still rappin 'bout clothes
and car rims
Man debted
But dishin that
corn, you get spreaded
We runnin on supreme,
you runnin on unleaded
Couldn't match, you out
the line-up, you been scratched
Sittin on the
bench, not feelin you one pinch, in the
trench
We loadin the guns to stack
funds
Went from stackin ones to stackin them
one-huns
Scored runs
The hotter the bat,
the more fat
It's Dilated, Ras, 'Fari, we bust
back
Like that, like that, like that, like
that
Like that y'all, like that, check
it

Yo this that where the big hits are
guaranteed
This ain't no minor league affair
this here the major leagues
You in the
batter's box ready for combat (what?)
But when
you step up to the plate better bring it
fat
Don't front