Guest Appearances

[Hook]

99 Problems but a ship aint one

If you’re having winning problems I feel bad for you son

I got 99 problems but a ship aint one

[Verse 1]

The game changed, so I adapted

With the odds against me I moved, I reacted

Felt the pressure but bent, never fractured

I’m rich bitch, the fourth I just captured

I took the crown win lose or draw

Thanks Tom - that really says it all

Needed one more strike and then he’d have the win

Probably should have just keep Gausman in

Marc my man gave that assist

His last day performance will not go amiss

Hit .488 berserk and the twist

Well, Tom’s management you get the gist

[Hook]

99 Problems but a ship aint one

If you’re having winning problems I feel bad for you son

I got 99 problems but a ship aint one. Hit me.

99 Problems but a ship aint one

If you’re having winning problems I feel bad for you son

I got 99 problems but a ship aint one

[Verse 2]

A ties a win, you do the math

Give credit where its due I drafted that staff

You didn’t rate it, put shade on my draft

But in the end I guess I got the last laugh

I got arms, more arms than a spider

Nasty fastball, change-up, cutter, slider

Got knocked around but never down, a fighter

Winning my bitch and I’m all up inside her

Wasn’t looking good after that week

Missing on innings, situation getting bleak

Then I got hot and went on a damn streak

Lots of double digit wins and I ended at the peak

[Verse 3]

Alright alight Mike was beggin for this shit

Wantin a track so bad

You know I got a couple of things to say to you bro...

May jizz when you hear it

So you don’t miss anything I sent you the lyrics

This is raw and I know you will feel it

And though I’m not there I am there in spirit

Not in the hall and I wouldn’t be asking

Aren’t you Canadian, naw I’m Alaskan (hahaha)

Game is getting stale losing all your passion

You're last season’s trends you're going out of fashion

Yes I’ve heard every single diss

From the best in the game or at he insists

Now I’ve got four and creating distance

You’re so basic bro and now your dismissed

[DJ airhorn]

What’s crackin?

Brand new team still packin

You lackin

I could pass ya team like Jackson (Lamar)

Just laughin (hm hm)

Talk that same shit new accent

My team chipped up still stackin (cha ching)

3 ships call it plaquin

I could go HAM like a sando

Unloadin clips like I’m Rambo (ooo)

That shit must be glazed

Like my eyes, so high, better getcha ammo

Told Dash he a fool wit dis shit (he a fool)

Said cheers and we hit that handle (clique)

Got 4 so he feel like a boss (that’s facts)

Keep it G so I wear my flannel (G’d up)

Me and my keepers, got no weakness

deGrom fit like seamless (thank you)

Track-record tight, Edison with the light

Run this shit like Preakness (no joke)

Benefits reap it, money ain’t leakin

Strom is the bomb but I’m better no secret

On my Kanye shit no Jesus

I could fill-a-bin wit cash like Regus (Regus Philbin)

On to the next

I’m the best, you more Delonte West

And when I recollect, about my strides and steps

It’s clear why I’m the best, behind a desk

Betta than the rest, I am the crest (true)

Game run deep, you ain’t got the depth (shallow)

Same OG, ain’t got to flex (but I do)

Startup your engines I’m coming for vengeance

I’m finding pretenders

They tend to have tendencies

Not stacking Benjamins, I’m still their brethren

Just like a titan they’ll live in remembrance

Can’t touch my crown like a dentist apprentice

The hall has been calling, bout to make my entrance

The hall has been calling, bout to make my entrance

You feel my presence

Like I was wrappin, I’m hangin in tap rooms

And sippin the yak, not again now I’m blackin

And hoping not back in, this pattern of action

Of crashing the wagon, and loosin my traction

But never the passion

Still puffing that fire like I was drag-on (cough)

I could pass ya team like Jackson (Lamar)

Sorry, back to the topic

Some of you seem like you manage autonomous

You know who I’m talking to, still 4 amateurs

Left in the league, and no not anonymous

Bryan and Peter and Neal (um hm)

We took a vote, it’s unanimous

The loser Thomas is

Compared to us, you’re antonymous (not the same)

Whoa, better check ya vocab

Losers, provoked it

Been 15 years you jokin? (not funny)

Still on deck like promenade (cruisin)

A-notha level that’s what I’m on (facts)

Over Bagdad like I’m the bomb (pew)

Time go fast like Ramadan

Don’t get twisted (nah)

I want you to win, that’s what I wish

But the chances are slim, I won’t hold my breath

There’s always next year I guess (it could happen)

What’s crackin?

Brand new team still packin

You lackin

I could pass ya team like Jackson (Lamar)

Just laughin (hm hm)

Talk that same shit new accent

My team chipped up still stackin (cha ching)

3 ships call it plaquin

If you havin ring problems I feel bad for ya son

I got 99 problems but a ship ain’t one

I got the stacks to prove that my craft is true

Looking at my plaques like what’s left to do?

If you thought you wouldn’t lose, you were misconstrued

Another team had chance, we call that fake news

Sit back relax while you take the abuse

Shit’s under control, I just put it on cruise

Free rolling this bitch like fuck it let’s up dues

Nice to know for life I’ll have Ronald Acun-a

I run the game like a Kenyan, no Drake or Martin

It happens too often managers end up in coffins

Peep the cash flow you see how I’m paid

You losers are lost, you couldn’t find me with Waze, fuckers

I don’t know how you pick your team

But you ain’t doing it right, it would seem

Sneak a, peek at my keepers dawg, I ain’t done

I got 99 problems but a ship ain’t one, hit me

99 problems but a ship ain’t one

If you having ring problems I feel bad for ya son

I got 99 problems but a ship ain’t one

Semifinal time, and who’s next in line?

It’s our ex-rapper friend from across the pond

Tried to puff his chest up with Mookie Betts

I think we’d all expect, what would happened next

Boat raced out the gate, couldn’t handle my wake

Such a sad display, like Bird with 2 plates

A no-show when it mattered, dude got fails

Dreams burned to ashes, like New South Wales

So it’s on to Dan, our defending champ

You know he been training like “I think I can” (train sounds)

I guess “no he can’t”, cause I smashed his plans

We knew what was coming, ain’t you hear the trash cans?

Thought I’d get a challenge, but matchup was out of balance

Diversified as fuck, I’m showing off all my talents

Sharper than a talon, you should just throw the towel in

Give me the medallion, game 6 I’m Ray Allen

It’s world domination thought I’s playing some Risk

Got back into Bikram, now its money I stretch

Aren’t you one of the best?

You some type a pro or something?

Someone I should know or something?

Child, I ain’t in the Hall, but I got a little cred

The numbers say I ball, and it’s going to my head

Well we’ll see where you land when it’s done and said

I got 99 problems but a ship ain’t one, hit me

99 problems but a ship ain’t one

If you having ring problems I feel bad for you son

I got 99 problems but a ship ain’t one

Now once upon a time not too long ago

An eighth grader had to slap the shit up outta hoe

Caught a ball with his throat, and threw one in the stands

Cut from every team, his mama his only fan

Sick of the loser’s lounge, he gone get some respect!

Choked on some smoke threw up on Jon’s deck

Now he promised himself he’d never cry again

No friends, learned sex from his librarian

Just giving a glimpse, fast-forward a few years

Finally found his niche, looked up to by his peers

Started thinking he Cassius, workin a ball of Clay

No one could imagine, such a fall from grace

Rings like a planet, nine years he had six

Now can’t make playoffs, not even in the mix

We need an intervention, his keepers are a sin

Call him EpiPen, allergic to the win

A six-year drought, and it’s only getting worse

I hope you kept receipts, it’s time to return the purse

I dunno the reason, it’s really bizarre yo

You need a come-to-Jesus, I ain’t talkin about Luzardo

All-time lows, skunked, it couldn’t be?

Now you owe the bros, a lap around Alpha Phi

Alpha of the flight, call you my neophytes

I’m going back-to-back like comparing my height

I’m locked up like Akon, I got max sentences

I killed the Choppers league, and they got 9 witnesses!

The Champ, word to Mamba it’s the league I run

I got 99 problems but a ship ain’t one, hit me

Aye, somebody grab’em some clippers

Their fuckin beards are weird

Tough talk from some managers w/ no ships combined 26 years

I know it must drive ya’ll crazy, when will this crap stop?

Sitting at home all alone, throwing phones and yelling at laptops

It must suck not being on trophies

Out of luck no bragging and boasting

I know it’s what you want most

But you may never know what’s like to be toasting

The bubbly it’s getting ugly

All of these losses emotionally jugging

I’m feeling ill, you’re the Buffalo Bills

Just keeping it real, you asked for this roasting

Team’s gross need a hazmat, seems close but ya math’s wack

Dream and pose we can’t have that, I know it blows, but you should ask Matt

How to get over the hump, god knows you’ve taken your lumps

Rise from the dead, get out the red

And show your friends, you’re not just a couple of chumps

I’m sick of them second places, them sad faces, let’s talk about it

I’m sick of you getting second, looking so dejected, let’s talk about it

Both of ya’ll know your stuff, it’s just not enough, we could talk about it

Or we could get foul, you could just bow, quit, and just walk up out it

Let’s talk about the fact you’ve made the playoffs 10 times but only 3 cashes

Let’s talk about how you turned eighteen-hundred bones into a pile of ashes

Let’s ask Dash for his secrets to winning and figure out just how he does it

Still can’t cover up the fact that your last 7 teams mine as well of been Mudgett’s, now tell me

What do you plan for, cause I know it ain’t playoffs

You need to demand more, c’mon dawg, you can’t take a day off

Running in place like rat race

Leaves a bad taste like blackface

Praying often but can’t change fate

Bird box’n he can’t stay straight

“Something must not be right here, maybe we change the rules

The luck that I’ve had, I can’t be this bad, jeez it’s really not cool

Managing is hard, not really my craft

Spot starting boo, should we charge for moves, or maybe lock lineups right after the draft?”

You’re better than that Bryan

No need for crying, please keep on trying

The dream is alive and there is no denying that you’ve got the heart of a lion

But I would be lying if I said your team wasn’t basic

Like you’re in a derby but just getting base hits

It’s been hard to watch like a kick in the crotch

Only takes one ship and you can erase it

I’m sick of them second places, them sad faces, let’s talk about it

I’m sick of you getting second, looking so dejected, let’s talk about it

Both of ya’ll know your stuff, it’s just not enough, we could talk about it

Or we could get foul, you could just bow, quit, and just walk up out it

Hello Pete, your team’s weak, you should go back to the drawing board

Hits and average oh my lord

One look at your team and now I am board

Hurts to the core, I’m sorry you’re sore

Infected with failure man you need a cure

You’re turning red, that vein your head

What is something I said, did I strike a chord?

Keeping it real you’re not all that deserving

It’s like you’re not learning

A deadbeat w/ spreadsheets the tides should be turning

The fact you blame Anibal Sanchez is somewhat concerning, dude

Your life isn’t over, focus less on poker

Oh I’ve been meaning to ask ya

If you love Omaha, so much my brah, then why don’t you move to Nebraska?

Think that your team’s good, you must be off of your rocker

Like you be standin, Dan is the man, and full off the cake Betty Crocker

Losing your grip going numb, like the feeling is gone

On the fringe like Rory, so close to the glory

But stuck at the bottom with Neal and Tom

I’m sick of them second places, them sad faces, let’s talk about it

I’m sick of you getting second, looking so dejected, let’s talk about it

Both of ya’ll know your stuff, it’s just not enough, we could talk about it

Or we could get foul, you could just bow, quit, and just walk up out it

Uh, I ain’t losing, na my team is proven

Just doing, what I do, which is ruin

Other teams dreams, it seems, they not congruent

Fantasy speak it fluent, game tight like the screw in

Neal’s team no surprise, got no talent

Another red wine, my, he’s lost his balance

11 years no cashes, now impatient

Should file his buyin up on his taxes, as donation

Dash’s team also bad, he was way back,

He couldn’t buy a W, fuckin with Sajak

Kind of strange usually he’s up there gettin paid

Not his time hard to find, like Waldo well off the page

While I’m on top you can bet I flex my muscle

Took the first shot, still waiting for rebuttal

I went to volley, but I didn’t hear a sound

Bump set spike, I laid the mic on the ground

Uh, and ain’t shit changed

But the mount of jewelry on my fingers when I flex rings

And I beat’em all against the odds that’s a big claim

Heavy in the game little homie, I’m doing big thangs, big thangs

And them Choppers they mezmorized, they recognize

I’m stackin 2G, I’m stackin 2G

Get you some loses fuckin wit me, yeah yeah

Uh, Tom and Dan, na didn’t do no better

If you can’t make the playoffs dog you can’t be chompin cheddar

Just be better, season it was regrettable

Not to be mean can’t see my team so far ahead of you

Peter and Bryan their season insignificant

Had big dreams of rings, couldn’t get a sniff of it

Same old story wish I could say things had changed

Combined 27 hundred dollars down the drain

Truth hard to handle gettin through the rif raf

Camel with chew in enamel the way I spit that

Former champs Roger and Marc, gave their best shot

Good enough to leave their mark, I guess not

I mean you were both so close; really a nice effort

Woulda coulda shoulda, I guess there’s always next year

Cook up a better scheme, kill yourself I wouldn’t

Just check the ingredients, musta left the proof up out the pudding, uh

And ain’t shit changed

But the mount of jewelry on my fingers when I flex rings

And I beat’em all against the odds that’s a big claim

Heavy in the game little homie, I’m doing big thangs, big thangs

And them Choppers they mezmorized, they recognize

I’m stackin 2G, I’m stackin 2G

Get you some loses fuckin wit me, yeah yeah

Uh, dropping bars man better bring ya hard hat

It seems, there’s one more team, left to spar at

DeJong came a spider, which makes Matt Miss Muffet

Trying to eat his curds and whey up in my way I was just like fuck it

I gave Matt, a dirt nap, like a turnip

Your blueprint to success, you should burn it

Beat him down defenseless, like it was nothing

I swung for the fences, I think that fool must’ve been bunting

Easiest win of all time I think it might be

Size 11s strolled to the win, that a nice feet

My team was greater, I was just like later man

I’m all about the Benjis, he more into the Abrahams

I won’t deny that he’s the GOAT like Billy

But 2017 is the year of Tremaine so Dilly Dilly!

And really really word to the league I spit facts on facts

You been warned I'ma protect my respect by going, back-to-back, uh

Now everybody in the choppers league

Put your muthafuckin hands up and follow me

Everybody in the choppers league

Put your muthafuckin hands up, look look

Now while he stands tough

Notice Dash cannot get his wins up

His team is in shambles, good teams he can’t handle

He's a gun w/ no ammo, blown out like a candle

A taste of success, yo he can’t get a sample

He’s lost his footing, like he ain’t got no ankle

God damn Schwarber was a keeper

O-rank fifty-four I was not a believer

Honestly it’s kind of sad

He’s got no speed, no D, and his average is bad

And finally the Cubs hit their breaking point

He couldn’t get it going, they sent him down to Des Moines

Winning you don’t breed, the opposite of succeed

C’mon dog it’s the Pacific Coast League

And what’s up with the dude Odu-bel Herrera

Get a clue dog he’s terrible, I swear he’s unbearable

He sucked to begin, so why’d you add him again?

Michael Taylor, bound to be a failure

What the fuck, CarGo sucks

Even Gary Sanchez, has been rancid

Matt Adams can’t even fathom the dip

I'm sorry to rip, not that you should quit

But you must admit, you’re not quite equipped

For this league and shit, your team cannot hit

And you ain’t stackin no cabbage

When you ain’t got no average

Even the bullpen has been a whirlwind

You couldn’t get a hold, if this was a hand I’d tell you to fold

Even the closers are posers, they’re all giving up homers

Asleep on the codeine, I don't even know if

Cameron Bedrosian, will keep on closing

And what’s with up with the staff? Cause when I do the math

David Price does not equal nice

Does Lance even have a chance?

I think Jameson, is lame and um

Looking at your team makes my eyes go numb

Swing and miss on draft picks like a pendulum

Your team has gone from riches to rags and um

Something is missing like a hit without the run

Honestly it’s just been sad, looking back at the draft

Edwin Diaz with the 3rd pick, far from perfect

I'm not sure what you heard, about Tyler Thornberg

But you were wrong from the beginning, he never pitched one inning

I'm just keeping it real, this team’s got no appeal

I mean what’s the deal, dude you’re losing to Neal

A fantasy baseball diss, Hammer said it’s legit

This shit is so dope it should be on a money mix

The truth of the sitch, is this team might miss

A chance at the crown, the way that it’s going now

This lineup is weak, it might be time for some layoffs

Oh, and pay 3-to-1 when you don’t make the playoffs