16 Counties

[Verse 1] Listen up Bub, 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, tip bad, 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 slanged lobster roles before I became grown Now my name’s known, had jet planes flown out to LA Then what did I do? I came home Pinecone, aroma, in 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 would blow They must not have been to my shows, and my little bros They didn’t think, “The kid, he could flow” Now I look like a man, like Olympia Snowe [Hook] (x2) So throw your hands in the air If you can’t get there from here If you sip ship yards and like when I spit bars Everybody let me hear you say, “Oh yeah!” [Verse 2] I’m from a place called Wells, where snow balls fell Where traffic gets stalled later when it all melts In the booth, broke loose like all Hell It’s all swell, [?] with Rob Caldwell And you could tell Augusta that I called to say The following: “Fuck Paul LePage” There’s no way he can 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 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 Harald In flannel apparel in 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 lookin’ 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 Where 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 losin’ hope again, she let another insecure dude into the Fallopians Screams not melodious, bruised, layin’ there on the linoleum The type of wounds that are not muted by Imodium The local representative she voted in Sugar coated it, gloated and bloated at the podium The promise is erroneous, now she and her kids are in the cold again Shiverin’, she’s holding ‘em, 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] (x2) So throw your hands in the air If you can’t get there from here If you sip ship yards and like when I spit bars Everybody let me hear you say, “Oh yeah!” [Outro: Sample] (x2) Sixteen counties has our state: Cumberland and Franklin Piscataquis and Kennebec Oxford, Androscoggin Waldo, Washington and York Lincoln, Knox, and Hancock Sagadahoc and Somerset Aroostook and Penobscot