3 Strikes You In
Ice Cube Lyrics


Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴  Line by Line Meaning ↴

One mo' strike and I'm through, nigga
Bottom of the ninth swingin', for my life
I'm up at the plate, goin for the gate
They got my moms seated in section eight
Been on deck since my last felony
I'm that 0 for 2 motherfucker
With the Louisville Slugger
Shay Whitie, that left hand punk
Is on the mound and he comin' wit that off-speed junk
Its the West side Hustlers, vs these LA Pigs
You can say the damned vs the nigs
My little homies in the dugout
They lookin' sad, cause fourteen niggas done struck-out
My first offense was possession of weed
Now I'm in the major leagues and
That motherfucker Bill Clinton-is a son of a bitch
Had the nerve to throw out the first pitch
I'm just tryin' to get rich like Trump
The Home Run king is now in a slump, pass me a hunk
How the fuck can I stay out the pen
When its one-two-three strikes you in

[Chorus]
One-two three strikes you in
Now how the fuck a nigga supposed
To stay out the pen, I'm on a blend
Of Gin and Hen, everyday of my life
With two strikes it ain't right

He's in the wind-up
Here come the pitch
I swing, aw shit (foul tip)
They felt the chill cause if I get on first
You know the deal, a niggas gots to steal
Like to steal home and I betcha
That I can run over, the LA Pig catcher
Just because I'm black, wit a bat
They wanna send a nigga back to the warning track
Full of count they say I won't amount to shit
But fool I can hit like Kenny Grit
With a split in my mouth on tha cellular phone
(It's going, going, gone!)
And watch a pitcher get served
You from the LA Pigs
I know you coming with a curve
Hey batter, batter is the chitter-chatter
I'm the designated hitter, a nigga
Much badder, than Babe Ruth
Will I tell the truth and nothing but the truth
Hell yea, I'd rather be shootin' hoops
Cause a niggas guaranteed to win
Against a bullshit loss and three strikes you in

Take me out to the ballgame
Take me out to the crowd (wha what, wha what)
Another nigga on trial
Keep ya peanuts Jeezuh
And fuck you Cracker Jack
I hope I never come back

I gots to root for my homeboys
If they don't win its a shame
Cause its one-two-three strikes you in
Twenty-five years of pain you know my name

They wanna nigga to run and get hung
High strung, so this pig can win the Cy-Young
I'ma hit this motherfucker a mile
In the batters box, high as Steve Hal
You can't salary cap my gat
No strike, cause gangsta-rap is on the map
I'm like Satchel Paige wit a gauge
Or Jackie Robinson, when I'm robbin' one
Of you Cracker Jacks fool I'm a motherfuckin' vet
And fuck yo seventh-inning stretch, so
Take me out to the ballgame,
And see my neighborhood name
In your Ghetto Hall of Fame

[Chorus: x3]

Yea (It ain't right)
Playin' people like a game (It ain't right)
Human beings, puttin' em in a jar (It ain't right)
For double life, triple life (It ain't right)

Take me out to the ballgame
Take me out to the crowd (wha what, wha what)
Another nigga on trial
Keep ya peanuts Jeezuh
And fuck you Cracker Jack
I hope I never come back

I gots to root for my homeboys
If they don't win its a shame
Cause its one-two-three strikes you in
Twenty-five years of pain you know my name

You know my name (wha what, wha what)
You know my name (wha what, wha what)
You know my name (wha what, wha what)
You know my name (wha what, wha what)

If I die tonight, you know who did it (you know)
If I ride tonight, you know who did it (you know)
If they sheck me up, you know who did it (don't guess)
If they check my nuts, you know who did it (get 'em)
If they break my bank, you know who did it (yea)
If they pull my rank, you know who did it (get 'em)
If they sock me up, you know who did it (yea)
If they lock me up, you know who did it (get 'em)
If they smear my name, you know who did it
If they kill my game, you know who did it




Remember me (you know who did it)
Wha what, wha what (you know who did it)

Overall Meaning

The lyrics of Ice Cube's "3 Strikes You In" speak about the struggles of African Americans in the United States criminal justice system. The lyrics are about someone who is on their last strike and facing jail time. They reference a game of baseball and use it as a metaphor for life. The singer is up to bat, and the pitcher (the system) is coming with off-speed junk (unjust laws). The singer’s friends have let him down (struck out), and his mom is watching from the sidelines (seated in section eight). He feels like he is alone, stuck in a system that is rigged against him. He’s going for broke, swinging for the gate, but he’s facing a pitcher that is coming at him with all his might.


The chorus repeats the phrase, β€œOne-two-three strikes you in,” which references the three strikes law that exists in some states in America. The law mandates that people with three felony criminal convictions will receive an extended prison sentence, sometimes for life. The lyrics depict the criminal justice system as being racist corrupt, and unjust. The singer struggles to avoid going to prison and feels like he is set up to fail due to the color of his skin.


Overall, the song portrays the struggles of African Americans in America. It highlights the failure of the criminal justice system and the ways the system perpetuates social injustice. It is a call to action to change the way the system operates.


Line by Line Meaning

One mo' strike and I'm through, nigga
If I get one more strike, I'm out of chances.


Bottom of the ninth swingin', for my life
I'm on the edge of defeat but still trying to win.


I'm up at the plate, goin for the gate
I'm trying to make it out of my current situation.


They got my moms seated in section eight
My family is poor and sitting in the cheap seats.


Been on deck since my last felony
I've been in trouble with the law before.


I'm that 0 for 2 motherfucker
I haven't been successful in the past.


With the Louisville Slugger
I have a baseball bat.


Shay Whitie, that left hand punk
The opposing team's pitcher is a white guy.


Is on the mound and he comin' wit that off-speed junk
He's throwing a strange pitch.


Its the West side Hustlers, vs these LA Pigs
It's the West side gang versus the LAPD.


You can say the damned vs the nigs
It's a battle between two groups who have been oppressed by society.


My little homies in the dugout
My friends are watching from the sidelines.


They lookin' sad, cause fourteen niggas done struck-out
My friends are discouraged because no one on our team has been successful.


My first offense was possession of weed
I got in trouble with the law for possessing marijuana.


Now I'm in the major leagues and
Now I'm involved in serious criminal activity.


That motherfucker Bill Clinton-is a son of a bitch
I don't like former President Bill Clinton.


Had the nerve to throw out the first pitch
I'm annoyed that Clinton got to throw the first pitch.


I'm just tryin' to get rich like Trump
I want to be as wealthy as Donald Trump.


The Home Run king is now in a slump, pass me a hunk
Even the best can have a bad streak.


How the fuck can I stay out the pen
How can I avoid going to prison?


When its one-two-three strikes you in
When I have no more chances and the law is against me.


[Chorus]


He's in the wind-up
The pitcher is getting ready to throw the ball.


Here come the pitch
The ball is being thrown.


I swing, aw shit (foul tip)
I messed up my chance and got a foul ball.


They felt the chill cause if I get on first
The other team is anxious because they know I'm a good base runner.


You know the deal, a niggas gots to steal
I have to commit a crime to achieve my goals.


Like to steal home and I betcha
I want to steal home base.


That I can run over, the LA Pig catcher
I can outrun the police officer trying to catch me.


Just because I'm black, wit a bat
The police are likely to treat me unfairly because I'm black.


They wanna send a nigga back to the warning track
They want to punish me severely.


Full of count they say I won't amount to shit
People don't think I will be successful.


But fool I can hit like Kenny Grit
I am capable of accomplishing great things.


With a split in my mouth on tha cellular phone
I'm talking on the phone while playing.


(It's going, going, gone!)
I hit a home run.


And watch a pitcher get served
I've beaten the opposing team's top player.


You from the LA Pigs
You're from the LAPD.


I know you coming with a curve
I know you're going to throw a tricky pitch.


Hey batter, batter is the chitter-chatter
That's the sound people make when encouraging a batter.


I'm the designated hitter, a nigga
I'm the person who is good at hitting in this situation.


Much badder, than Babe Ruth
I'm better than the famous baseball player.


Will I tell the truth and nothing but the truth
I'm always honest.


Hell yea, I'd rather be shootin' hoops
I prefer to play basketball.


Cause a niggas guaranteed to win
I'm sure I would be successful.


Against a bullshit loss and three strikes you in
I'm playing against a rigged game.


Take me out to the ballgame
Let's play baseball.


Take me out to the crowd (wha what, wha what)
Let's also be seen by people watching.


Another nigga on trial
Someone else is in trouble with the law.


Keep ya peanuts Jeezuh
I don't want to eat your peanuts.


And fuck you Cracker Jack
I don't like the Cracker Jack brand.


I hope I never come back
I don't want to return here.


I gots to root for my homeboys
I have to support my friends.


If they don't win its a shame
If my friends don't succeed, it's unfortunate.


Cause its one-two-three strikes you in
You only get three chances before you're out.


Twenty-five years of pain you know my name
I've been in pain for a long time, and people know me.


They wanna nigga to run and get hung
The police want to kill me.


High strung, so this pig can win the Cy-Young
The police are too invested in winning to do their job correctly.


I'ma hit this motherfucker a mile
I'm going to hit the ball very far.


In the batters box, high as Steve Hal
I'm in the zone and doing well.


You can't salary cap my gat
The police can't limit my abilities.


No strike, cause gangsta-rap is on the map
My rap genre gives me an advantage.


I'm like Satchel Paige wit a gauge
I'm a skilled player with a gun.


Or Jackie Robinson, when I'm robbin' one
I'm good at stealing.


Of you Cracker Jacks fool I'm a motherfuckin' vet
I'm experienced at this game.


And fuck yo seventh-inning stretch, so
I don't want to take a break.


Remember me (you know who did it)
Remember me if I get in trouble with the law.


Wha what, wha what (you know who did it)
You know it was me.




Lyrics Β© Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., EMPIRE PUBLISHING
Written by: O'SHEA JACKSON, JOSEPH HEARNE, JERRY BUDDY LONG, GREGORY (PKA COLD 187UM) HUTCHINSON, KEVIN GULLEY, JOSEPH JOHNSON

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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Comments from YouTube:

D K

20+ years later, this track still sounds fresh. Still be listening in another 20 years

Damian Martinez

Icecube creative writing is incredible but his hip hop peers don't recognize or appreciate what a shame if Nas or Jay and Big would of wrote this it would be considered genius Give it up to muthafuckin Icecube nuff said

Wesley Bogard

Big facts. Cube an unappreciated legend.

Darryl Reed

Genius πŸ”₯πŸ”₯

Alpha Games

Love this

Владислав Пак

Great gangster rap! πŸ‘ πŸ‘ πŸ˜€

tharealezg

FOOL, i can hit like kenny grif, with a spliff in my mouth on a cellular phone. One of my favorite songs, even though he b hatin whites

John Queen

@Jesse Jaramillo some bill Clinton bull shit

Jesse Jaramillo

talkin about the la pigs and the 3 strike law in ca.

Andrew Flood

WAR & PEACH VOL 1 GREAT RAP ALBUM BY O'SHEA JACKSON AKA RAPPER ICE CUBE !!!

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