(Original lyrics here.)
From a Buck 6
I got this ballyard boy-man, you know he’s just a kid
In my outfield this summer, you know he’ll go deep, get hits
He was an AZ Sun Devil and he still don’t make much bread
Well, if I keep on tradin’, you know he’s bound to spend the season out in left.
Well, when the pipeline gets broken and our prospects are C’s at best
I'm all Blackberry’in’ the trade wires and cuttin’ them sunk costs
Here he comes out the clubhouse lookin’ like he just got out of bed
Well, if I keep on tradin’, you know he’s bound to spend the season out in left.
Well, he don't make no millions, he don't walk enough
He hits like Milt Bradley but he don't need no crutch
He keeps the 510 ladies wishin’ they was unwed
Well, if I keep on tradin’, you know he’s bound to spend the season out in left.
Well, you know I need to sign Emil for summer to keep some bodies warm
I need a dump truck baby to restock the farm
He brings me everything and more, and just like I spend
Well, if I keep on tradin’, you know he’s bound to spend the season out in left.
