Yeah it was a general rant, not directed at what you said
Its like free form rap, we free form rant here
"They palms is sweaty. Bats limper than spaghetti. Getting called up to tha show when they just ain't ready."
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- Thread starter brodybuck21
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"They palms is sweaty. Bats limper than spaghetti. Getting called up to tha show when they just ain't ready."
"They palms is sweaty. Bats limper than spaghetti. Getting called up to tha show when they just ain't ready."
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Full Version/Hot Shit
They palms is sweaty, bats limper than spaghetti,
Players called up to the bigs but you know they ain't ready.
Two thousand fifteen Cincinnati fuckin' Reds,
Setting records every time they shit the fuckin' bed.
This is DJ Walt mothafuckin' Jocketty,
Never signing good players, busy suckin' cocketty.
I sit back, look at the sky, and then I wonder,
How many games, below .500, will we be under.
I've stacked the team full of fuckin' non-clutch hitters,
You can find me after every game, yakkin' in the shitter.
Joey Votto must've struck the mothafuckin' lotto,
Two thousand ten, never again, that shit's forgotto.
Jay Bruce swingin' at the same fuckin' pitch,
Strikin' out, over and over, like a bitch.
BP never wants to take a mothafuckin' walk,
Double play all day, sit down and mothafuckin' sulk.
There's less noteworthy players on this shitty team,
But to name them all off would make me mothafuckin' scream.
Cuz then I'd fully realize the shitty job I've done,
Putting low level clowns with these high priced bums.
If these fucktards ever manage to score some fuckin' runs,
The bullpen gives them all right back by the ton.
I can't watch no more of this, I gotta think of something,
I'm gonna go and fuck myself with a giant pumpkin.
And it goes like this.
Uh.
Yeah.
This song goes out to all my balla's that we've lost in the past year. Yeah. You know. The ones sent down to Louisville. We miss you mothafucka's. Until we see you again...and we will see you again...
Peace.
They palms is sweaty, bats limper than spaghetti,
Players called up to the bigs but you know they ain't ready.
Two thousand fifteen Cincinnati fuckin' Reds,
Setting records every time they shit the fuckin' bed.
This is DJ Walt mothafuckin' Jocketty,
Never signing good players, busy suckin' cocketty.
I sit back, look at the sky, and then I wonder,
How many games, below .500, will we be under.
I've stacked the team full of fuckin' non-clutch hitters,
You can find me after every game, yakkin' in the shitter.
Joey Votto must've struck the mothafuckin' lotto,
Two thousand ten, never again, that shit's forgotto.
Jay Bruce swingin' at the same fuckin' pitch,
Strikin' out, over and over, like a bitch.
BP never wants to take a mothafuckin' walk,
Double play all day, sit down and mothafuckin' sulk.
There's less noteworthy players on this shitty team,
But to name them all off would make me mothafuckin' scream.
Cuz then I'd fully realize the shitty job I've done,
Putting low level clowns with these high priced bums.
If these fucktards ever manage to score some fuckin' runs,
The bullpen gives them all right back by the ton.
I can't watch no more of this, I gotta think of something,
I'm gonna go and fuck myself with a giant pumpkin.
And it goes like this.
Uh.
Yeah.
This song goes out to all my balla's that we've lost in the past year. Yeah. You know. The ones sent down to Louisville. We miss you mothafucka's. Until we see you again...and we will see you again...
Peace.
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We need this update in the form of a free form rap please!
So this guy Moscot, who I've never heard of, started the game and dislocated his non throwing shoulder by tagging a runner and doesn't even last an inning. Then the Tigers score 4 off of some guy named Adcock, who I've never heard of. The fuck? Where are the Cincinnati Reds? D-E-R-P
Oh, and the Reds collected a total of 2 hits on the night. Fucking fucks.
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Just got called up to the show, gonna do my thing and throw
owww my fucking shoulder!!!!
/drops mic due to injury
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You would have to be the dumbest motherfucker in baseball to hack into the Reds system to try and glean any kind of insight or competitive advantage.
I guess you could do it for the LULZ.
Walt's password is 12345
guaranteed
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As a rival executive I'd be more concerned with getting a virus and possibly catching whateverexactlythefuck is wrong with the Reds organization.
They aren't going to trade anyone anygoddamn way. I anticipate nothing but draft choices coming their way for Cueto and Leake then another glorious 50 IP from Chapman next year as they lose 90+
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So my apologies, this isn’t a rap, but for all my old schoolers out there, this is to the tune of Ruppert Holmes’ “Pina Colada Song” and could as well be about the Indians…
"They palms is sweaty. Bats limper than spaghetti. Getting called up to tha show when they just ain't ready."
I was tired of winning, cheering for too many greats,
I’d seen too many trophies, too many playoff dates,
So I needed a new team, to beat my brains out instead,
Found a fan of the Red Stockings, and this is…what he said…
If you like bad starting pitching, no stolen bases or bunts,
If you like leadoff hitters, who reach base less than once,
If you like rally-killing strikeouts, and a bullpen that’s dead,
Come with me to Great American, and experience the Reds…
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