The Major Leagues

He started running down the middle of the street Bare feet, looking like he needs a little to eat Broad daylight, the school kids are laughing at him It doesn't matter, he's battling a traffic jam A Pacman tryna come up a quarter Joystick, put your score in the corner Running from the ghosts till you get that pill Gotta hit the wall when you wanna stand still He's used to sell crack, years back I remember it was him and his weird fat cousin The last ones that you would've guessed at it Soundtrack was "Black Planet" and "s*x Packets" A long time ago in a hood That is still relatively close as the crow flies No time to grieve or bleed Tryna find a way to fulfill those needs [Chorus:Repeat x2] Such temptation, what's the basis? Cutthroat rages, tuck the razor Stuck in a phase of must get paid here Blood rush, raised up to the majors [Slug] I was living at my dad's crib Still a kid, when my best friend began to drift So I guess I was a lame Cause I wasn't with the game, motherfuck cocaine Yeah I know you didn't want to be broke It's a common excuse for those that sold dope If your momma had knew, I know she'd throw blows Y'all moved here from Chicago to grow You got a tool up inside of your coat And you got no clue why you decided to smoke I never even said goodbye to the bloke I would see him around but never try to provoke But here we are two decades later I'm curious to see what the kingpin's days made of You never got to be Scarface Caught between a rock and a hard place Maybe he got something to say to me I have to patiently wait and see Hoping that heaven has a vacancy for dope fiends Cause I know he never made it to the major leagues [Chorus:Repeat x2] --- The Major Leagues - Atmosphere