Rick Rhoden, 1988 Fleer Superstars
Rhoden comma Rick, ain't slick or dick
In name that is, I'm slick and got a big one
S to the P for the effin' Yankees
You don't know my steez? Please suck on these
Sunflower seeds, yo, get that cheese
Played for mad teams, can't nobody lock me DOWN
Down, keep the ball down
It's what I do, tell your girl my balls drop
Off the plane, yo, insane how I pull that string
Bling underneath this fly windbreaker
That's your girl o'er there? Pfft, think I'm gonna take her
Back to the dugout teach her how I swing
That bat that club, either one that's the thing
Mad versatile, be golfin' on the weekends
Weekdays too, work every five days
Got more cash than a pimp gets paid
Be pimpin too in this pimped out cart
Sitting on chrome 'till my next scheduled start
Unless I get the call to pick up the good wood
First pitcher DH in the AL hood
Run and go tell that playa, it's all good
On the dugout steps getting on my Gatorade
Other SPs drinking mad hateorade
Mad cause I got mad skills to compete
On the links, on the hill, at the club, on the street
Dope mustache just icing on the cake
Your wispy-ass upper lip ain't taking my cake
I rhyme cake with cake, yo, don't give a what
Got better things to do like see what's up
With this nervous ass dude standing in the batter's box
Allergic to my stuff like he's got the chicken pox
Sit your ass down, son, called strike three
At the knees, it's a breeze like a short par-3
Gotta bounce, gotta pounce on this helpless a$$ rook
Rihanna where you at? Bring it in with the hook ...
Awesome!
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