Negro Baseball League - Jean Grae, Natural Resource

Now, enterin' the batter’s box

Is a guy who wears Champion socks and likes rings with rocks

Throw up my middle finger to the umpire

‘Cause niggas just choosin' the new talent just need to retire

Check the signals from my manager, the first base coach

He’s throwin' signs, tellin' me the label’s just playin' cutthroat

Yo, I hit him with a tape or should I say I take a check swing?

I hear the crowd sing, go meet Plug, and the telephone ring

He says I need more beats—wait a minute—no doubt

My temper runs out.

Three pitches later, I strike the fuck out

Yo, shit like this happens to the real MC’s

Because the labels wanna sign up the commercial wannabes

And if, it ain’t that, it’s just a little bit more, sayin'

«Umm, can you put on a screwface and scream lyrics that’s hardcore?»

I adore this whole rap persona

But some of you A&R's must be mixin' coke witcha marijuana

Talkin', «Oooh, he got the new shit.»

I’m on his dick but that’s an MC that come out with one bangin' hit."

I split atoms, blow up as if I was atomic

Labels talk so much shit, yo, I laugh at them like they was comics

Check the scoreboard—we're up by one

Two more hitters to go, and the song ain’t even done, baseball

First batter up, well, here’s the pitch, that’s a curve

Second batter up because the first got served

First batter up, well, here’s the pitch, that’s a curve

Second batter up because the first got served

From the kids in the batting cages to the pro players

To the labels and the mob in the bleachers makin' waves

Lookin' at the pitcher like, «Man, what gives?»

They got one-arm fugitives throwin' with prosthetic limbs

Look from the team to the umpire means that the

Man got demoted from stadiums to refereein' gyms

Synonyms from big cheese to the independent label

Couldn’t pay up they debt, so they got cut like unpaid cable

B. E. I. S. B-O-L, accent on the «O.»

GOALLLL!

Feel sweat tricklin' down the back of my neck

Tighten my grip on the bat, take a swing and it’s a technical foul

Nah, that’s basketball… Whatever, good call

How come when black men hit the field, they were throwin' bottles?

Now they throwin' million dollar deals?

When I steal bases, I do it with pride

For Jackie Robinson, certified—forerunner for us

Homeruns, we must hit 'em straight out the ballpark

I’m not patriotic, so I won’t sing the National

Underlyin' stipulations playing underhanded ways

It pays to have your representative stay

Or you’ll have top executives gettin' all possessive

With your money and it’s not funny

But when loot is involved, all problems get solved

Umm, maybe because you supply they cocaine fetish

To finish this, this business ain’t nothin' but corrupt

Forget all this garbage—I'd rather play tennis

First batter up, well, here’s the pitch, that’s a curve

Second batter up because the first got served

First batter up, well, here’s the pitch, that’s a curve

Second batter up because the first got served

Baseball was never for Blacks

It used to be a pastime for Whites

Now it has mad Puerto Ricans

But that’s not the point of the song

The point of the song and I make it mad simple

When I be flippin' this script

Is that the industry is all over the mound

Pitchin' but nobody’s makin' any hits—hmm

Baseball is not just a sport

It’s the verbal, mental, physical, spiritual

Emotional level that we are on

It’s about time that all you devils was gone

like.

I said it and meant it

If you cannot handle it, then for your ears it’s not intended

You can play the documented, all athletes quoted

‘Cause when you speak to be exploited, then your spot will get exploded

Bases are loaded, but there is no RBI in the stadium

Where players try to be hard as titanium

I got your cranium movin' when I be showin' and provin'

Now you fear that your career is goin' down the tubes

And it’ll be along with industry that’s withering

And what’s left?

Ocean’s about to blow to smithereens

I bring lyrical formats that you’ll admire

And to the Hall of Fame I will go when I retire

They’ll set your world afire.

There is nobody to fear

When every umpire, A&R is screamin' that, «You're outta here!»

And to your amazement, a tax write-off is your replacement

You gotta face it—there is no other crew adjacent

With sounds from the basement, we rise

We energize, to take over the whole enterprise

By now, you realize that when we’re in the place

That we will come fat over piano and the bass

If you’re lookin' for security, then you can end your chase

Come home to Negro League and you’ll be safe

Baseball!

No doubt, Negro League is in the house

No doubt, no doubt, knockin' runs out

‘Cause we do it like this, we do it like that

I was rockin' stage just like to a bat

Sent to home back when I be doing my thing

Hit a home run with the Negro League theme

Do it like this, do it like that

I was rockin' stage just like to a bat

Sent to home back when I be doing my thing

Hit the home run with the Negro League swing