| Uh oh oh hey I didn’t see you there
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| Welcome to sunny Wells, Maine
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| Pass me the blunt
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| (yeah I got a boner, bitch)
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| Back when I was sipping Sunny D
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| Watching «Harry and the Hendersons»
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| Oshkosh jeans, and the Dimetapp medicine
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| Life was good and oh so simple
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| No girls, no weed, no police, no pimples
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| And now it’s Red Stripe 'til I can’t stand up
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| I don’t bluff, I’m in Maine like horse dandruff
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| I could burn my mouth and still not suck
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| With the bank account negative a million bucks
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| And even when I’m drunk I spit resilient stuff
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| And I date a Kennebunker who gives brilliant fucks
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| Similarly early life made me as such
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| Heyo what? |
| I’ve been bonkers since Tonka trucks
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| Is he Spizzy? |
| is he nuts? |
| The locals are unsure
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| No fur, just ash stains on the sweatshirt
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| Who besides Spose had a flow so pure
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| Before the Red Sox reversed that curse in '04, baby
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| Fuck it
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| If you’re with me or you just got meds for your STDs say
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| Fuck it
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| One life to live and one million more nose rips to give say
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| Fuck it
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| If you ain’t got paid or you ain’t got laid in one hundred days say
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| Fuck it
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| Spizzy Spose, you’re damn right, I keep it bimpin'
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| White dude, Nikes
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| Suburban living where the blunts half-pipes be
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| Quite abundant, night life unlively
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| Glove compartment got Febreze and Visine
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| VCR-TV combo not widescreen
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| And Mike V hustles trees unidly
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| 12 year olds fake IDs
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| Rich dads keep their yards tidy
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| Shall I proceed? |
| (mmhmm) alrighty
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| We got wealth disproportionate
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| Teen suicide, no need for Kevorkian
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| Dope people mixed with should’ve-been-abortioned kids
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| Wells, Maine from the casket to the orphanage
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| And back again, I’m from the place where the wives scream
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| Redneck fists aren’t soft like Ice Cream
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| Police lights shine bright white
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| Every night like Jesus Christ light beams
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| And the radio sucks, so turn up the Outkast
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| Fuck it
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| If you’re with me or you just got meds for your STDs say
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| Fuck it
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| One life to live and one million more nose rips to give say
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| Fuck it
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| If you ain’t got paid or you ain’t got laid in one hundred days say
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| Fuck it
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| Spizzy Spose, you’re damn right, I keep it bimpin'
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| I’ve been dope with these rants
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| Since everybody rocked JNCO pants
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| Justin, JC, and Lance used to blare
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| At every Junior High Dance
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| While my mom was in the basement watering plants
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| With the xenon lights, rural life ain’t polite
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| Welcome to the jungle, stash the weed by the grundle
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| My buddy mumbles that the cop probably knows his uncle
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| Get it dropped like a fumble
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| I said, «that shit’s bimpin'»
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| 5'8″ eyes dilate when I’m baked
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| Guidos in tuxedos buy steaks at high rates
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| For Christ sake, American parents are irate
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| Cause they’ve all seen their daughters gyrate on Myspace
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| I’m on the couch, passed out, being an ass clown
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| But they say that Spose kid is dope with his mouth
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| In fact the illest illestest since social studies syllabus
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| Before Islamic militants were killing us
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| Fuck it
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| If you’re with me or you just got meds for your STDs say
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| Fuck it
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| One life to live and one million more nose rips to give say
|
| Fuck it
|
| If you ain’t got paid or you ain’t got laid in one hundred days say
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| Fuck it
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| Spizzy Spose, you’re damn right, I keep it bimpin'
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| Can’t afford a hat, I wear a bucket
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| Kicked out my mom’s house, fuck it
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| On the mic I used to be sucking, reluctant
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| But not no more
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| Fucked a lot of girls, but not no whores
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| Freestyle, used to kick it F4
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| I can kick it up in my mom’s door
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| At my dad’s house, I got a bad mouth
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| From the Wells, Maine area
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| Sicker than malaria
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| Cause mass hysteria in your area
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| Fucking coming out your stereo
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| When you’re bumpin'
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| I mean something like that, bimpin' |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Fuck It, artist - Spose. Album song Preposterously Dank, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп