Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song King of Maine, artist - Spose. Album song Spose & The Humans Live In Denver, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 03.10.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Preposterously Dank Entertainment
Song language: English
King of Maine |
Yo, I wake up make a K-Cup then I blaze up, shave with a razorblade |
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 massive |
If I wasn’t slacking and |
Jerking to Jayden Jaymes |
Celtics sticker |
On the bumper |
Of a clunker |
But my vocals real |
Fuck rap. |
I might sell my mic and buy a snowmobile |
I can’t relate to throwing money when she makes it clap |
I can relate to doing dishes. |
We should take a nap: |
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 Verizon 4G don’t reach |
(Can you me now?) |
Coming live from where mill towns are still towns |
Even though they shut the mills down |
But I’m feeling like the King of Maine |
The King of Maine |
Wear a seal-skin jersey to the Sea Dogs game |
I’m the King of Maine |
The King of Maine |
Plow truck all gold never hydroplane |
I tell em: Welcome to 207. |
Welcome-Welcome to 207. |
Welcome to 207. |
Welcome-Welcome to 207. |
It’s the way life should be: everything’s pleasant |
Tell 'em: this-th-th-this is 207. |
Hey, hey, I heard the news in the street |
That we’re the shit and you’re the pubes on the seat |
Even though I triple bogey that par 5 |
Rangoon with my mai tai |
Steal another motherfucker’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 |
So paying bills is my motive |
Can’t afford G4s I’m poor on tour in a worn '04 Ford Focus |
Ayup |
I know that this weed might be the death of me |
but I got this «O"broke up like it’s parentheses |
I’m yellin ayup |
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 who never acts hard or went half-heart |
I’m the Peoples Douche: |
AKA The Truth |
Everytime that I get in the booth I’ll be feeling like |
I’m from the 420 minus 213 |
I’m on the throne if you’re looking for who to unseat |
I got mooseblood in my goblet |
Lobsters in my optics |
I’m live on the map |
Where the dudes don’t rap |
In the Altima black who I do go past |
Come hop in |
Find me chillin in Rockland |
where the townies sell oxies |
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 Lepage |
Got a tattoo on my arm that says «Don't Stop» |
Cuz other guys told me otherwise when we talked |
I told em Wells, Maine what the sign say |
Where I go ape with my primates |
Rhyme great |
16s like 2 times 8 |
Wine grapes and prime steaks |
Damn 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 Hannaford |