- Lyrics
- Album list
- Singer Intro
Spose( Ryan Michael Peters )
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16 Counties
Look bud, I'm from Maine Where ain't nobody famous Where people move away, and some of em' don't even claim it Where Canadians vacation Sit back, get hated by the waiters Where some people are dating even though they are related I'm Spizzy Spose, one of Maine's own I slang lobster rolls before I became grown Now my name's known,had jet planes flown Out to L.A., and what did I do? I came home Pine cone aroma, and the Atlantic It's not the Bay state, or the state made of granite But where I first rapped, way back on my planet My whole state behind me still, I'm Kevin Mannix These local cats didn't think that I could blow They must not have been to my shows, or my little bro's They didn't think the kiddy could flow? Now I look like a man like Olympia Snowe
(Hook) So throw yo' hands in the ay-urrr (air) If ya can't get there from hay-urrr (here) If you sip Shipyards, and like when I spit bars Everybody lemme hear ya say oh yay-uhh (yeah) (Repeat 1x)
I'm from a place called Wells Where snowballs fell And traffic gets stalled later when it all melts In the booth broke loose like all hell It's all swell, rum punches with rhyme called well And you can tell Augusta that I called to say The following; Fuck Paul Lepage There ain't no way that he could be from where we've all been raised He needs to shut his fat face and lick the balls for days While I'm robbin' every Marden's 'till we all get paid If that clown isn't hauled away Bound, and drowned Up in the Maine Mall in hollandaise Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com For trying to turn Maine into the Balkan States I'm Governor Spose, I deliver the noise But not like Susan Collins with a quivering voice I got a boisterous mouth, the rap game, Portland press, Harold and flannel apparel,and the Oyster House Where strippers with few teeth drop it lower than the murder rate Where the old people salty like a surfer face If a loud sound (in their town) reverberates I'm from where Angus King isn't a burger place We're all looking like the opposite of fashion week Nobody to impress but the faculty at Applebee's So if it happened on the runway, we're the last to see And actually we don't need fresh clothes to live happily We keep it basic man, in vacationland, But all pretty lakes still got snakes in them Single mothers discover it's not utopian From Fort Kent, to Brunswick where Bowdoin is Now she's losing hope again she let another insecure dude into the fallopians Screams not melodious, bruised, layin' there on the linoleum The type of wounds that deny, muted by Imodium The local representative she voted in Sugarcoated and gloated then blowed it at the podium The promises erroneous, Now she and her kids are in the cold again Shivering, she's holding them, that's what you see you take a look behind the foliage and see the real Maine It's not lobster dinners, everywhere we feel pain I'm just sayin' what I see around me, where they found me: In Maine! Put em up for the sixteen counties!
(Hook)
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