| I’m Peter Sparker, Spider-Man sent me
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| He does know Spider-Man! |
| He’s cool
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| (Knowing Spider-Man does not make him cool!)
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| I’m the broke moocher you don’t wanna wake up with
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| (But on mics?) I’m realer than some A-cup tits
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| (Alright) It’s like I found out the weed is my first cousin
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| ‘Cause after I get it, we break up quick
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| They say I don’t measure up, I got more lines than a yardstick
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| You’re just trying to make out with a whip, you’re a carcass
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| (Spizzy) 1, 2, 3, I went to preschool
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| Tell me what’s new to brag about so I can be cool
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| I lay lower than the bassline’s dealer
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| ‘Cause the humbugs numb in their great-rhyme-feelers
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| You can play «Whose snapback’s tealer»
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| I’m just trying to put it into words
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| You should get some v-necks, some Kleenex
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| You all look crestfallen, get back to yes y’all-in' (Yes y’all)
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| Still hungry, as a kid I wasn’t fed right
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| My clique so ill, I’m browsing hospital websites
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| I’m going ham, I don’t think that you noticed
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| ‘Cause there’s so much bologna all over the focus
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| (Yo yo) A couple more yos
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| I’m going spam, I don’t think that you noticed
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| ‘Cause you got salami all over the camera, the camera
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| Yo, delete your Facebook to it
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| My peep’s teeth are looking like the Bruins: black and yellow
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| I’ve been revered by a jury of my peers
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| ‘Cause I’ve rapped like I’m under oath my whole career
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| It’s not a novelty or comedy, because I’m into honesty
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| And modesty, and never did a robbery
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| Hmm, you got the clip that goes «boom?»
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| How many cylinders in it when your whip goes «vroom?»
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| Because I could give a fucking fuck
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| I’m overseas with my speech, like beach cover-ups
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| To you rhymers that are lying, saying nothing much
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| To you vaginas, I’m a C-Section, I’m a cut above
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| I open up a beer, check my Gmail
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| Treat beats like a cheap version of a therapist
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| Look, I’ve had it up to here, like a seashell
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| Crumbs of the cannabis on a can of Sierra Mist
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| Please, my rap steez different
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| I got guitars wailin' like a Japanese fisherman
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| Plus I got all my words pronounced
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| I’m no pretender, a defender of the herbs and clowns
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| I put it down
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| Actually… you put the mic down
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| I’m going ham, I don’t think that you noticed
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| ‘Cause there’s so much bologna all over the focus
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| Put your hands up, put your hands up (15 more yos)
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| Put your hands up, put your hands up
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| I’m going spam, I don’t think that you noticed
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| ‘Cause you got salami all over the camera, the camera
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| Somebody say P. Dank!
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| Somebody say P. Dank!
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| Lester, we don’t often think of Maine and royalty in the same sentence
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| But tonight, I am reporting on «The King of Maine» |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Salami , by - Spose. Song from the album Peter Sparker, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп