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spose - the king of maine lyrics
yo, i wake up and get… then i blaze up, shave with a razor-blade
my hat is still crooked, i’m reading a book and my body was made in maine
man, i’m still deflecting all the bill collectors and i hate when they say my name
my buzz would be m-ssive if i wasn’t slacking and jerking to jayden jaymes
celtics sticker on the b-mper of a clunker but my vocals real
f-ck rap, i might sell my mic and buy a snowmobile
i can’t relate to throwing money when she makes it clap (clap)
i can relate to doing dishes, we should take a nap (let’s go!)
tired like michelin of your wrists when they’re glistening
we don’t want no yacht to float but just a boat to go fishing in
man, my whole yard is a minor mess, go hard till my dying breath
owe bars to the irs, we got no rs in our dialect
me and my peeps speak a different kind of speech
where …. 4g won’t reach (can you me now?)
we’re coming loud from where mill towns are still towns
even though they shut the mills down
hook:
but i’m feeling like the king of maine,
the king of maine
i wear a seal-skin jersey to the sea dogs game
(let’s go!)
i’m the king of maine, the king of maine
plow truck all gold never hydroplane
i tell em: welcome to 207, wel-welcome to 207
welcome to 207, wel-welcome to 207
it’s the way life should be, everything’s pleasant
tell ’em: ‘yes-yes-yes
is 207!’
hey, i heard the news in the street (what’s that?)
that we’re the sh-t and you’re the p-b-s on the seat
even though i triple bogey that par 5
rangoon with my mai tai
steal another motherf-cker’s wifi
got texas pete on my five guys
i’m back, facts:
spit a little bit but i never made a gat go cap, cap, pap
but my backpack on and i’m smoking
being homeless is bogus, paying bills is my motive
can’t afford g4s, i’m poor on tour in a worn ’04 ford focus
high up! i know that this weed might be the death of me
but i got this “o” broke up like it’s parentheses
i’m yelling ‘high up’ i weigh a buck forty still
but when my finger tips touch the quill
i’ll be feeling like i’m paul pierce and i’m rondo
i’m john deere and i’m john doe
i’m the rap star from the back yard, never act hard or went half-heart
i’m the peoples douche, aka the truth!
every time that i get in the booth, i’ll be feeling like
hook:
the king of maine, the king of maine
if you’re batman i must be l.l. bane
i’m the king of maine, the king of maine
i got susan collins giving everyone brain
i tell em: welcome to 207, wel-welcome to 207
welcome to 207, wel-welcome to 207
it’s the way life should be, everything’s pleasant
tell ’em: ‘yes-yes-yes
is 207!’
i’m from the 420 minus 213
i’m on the throne if you’re looking for who to unseat
i got moose blood in my goblet
lobsters in my optics
i’m live on the map where the dudes don’t rap
in the … black who i do go past come hop in
find me chilling in rockland
where the townies sell … so the coroners got coffins.
it’s my fault my paid because of what i say
i rock it for a profit pockets fat as paul ….
got a tattoo on my arm that says ‘don’t stop’
cause other guys told me otherwise when we talked.
i told ’em … what the sign say
where i go ape with my primates
i rhyme great, 16s or two times eight
wine grapes and prime stakes
d-mn i’m feeling marvelous
had a hand with no good cards in it
that i parted with, i’m an artisan!
i think you’re an amateur, kids, cops, janitors
all pull out their cameras when i walk out of …!
hook:
the king of maine, the king of maine
i got a f-cking … head hanging on my chain
the king of maine, the king of maine
and all the state game wardens yell my name
i tell em: welcome to 207, wel-welcome to 207
welcome to 207, wel-welcome to 207
it’s the way life should be everything’s pleasant
yes-yes-yes is 207
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