Major League Lyrics - Singles - Defari

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