That's That

[Verse 1: Spose] Let it ride, Flo Ride, Yes sir! My brethren habitate Wells, Maine Where the skiess are clear Dad's gut deer And sip upon Shipyard beer We attend house parties And try to get loose And when we're drunk driving home We try not to hit moose Me, I come from familial disfunction I'll be hiding in my room Loudly bumping to smashing pumpkins "The world is a vampire" Dirtier than toilettes I stay lit like campfires Just to avoid it It's a cold world My mom can't even start her Cutlass We got hicks with no bicuspids In the bushes busting muskets We peruse lightless roads Blazing, dodging possums As private business degenerates into public gossip Baby pine, moose, lobster Wealthy folks cohabitate With the impoverished In a sense, the innosense has been demolished I mean, you see four wheelers, I see drug dealers The underbelly's less obvious The contrast alarming The youthfull residence once dreamed of departing Just, to set presidence like Polk,Taft, Harding Resort to jail coke, we're the army Baby, I know you wanna leave Instead inhale marijauna leaves Which makes sense Like the dude collecting bottles constantly Follow me, wannabe, as we wallow in mediocrity We'll play that life lottery We'll get to where ought to be [Hook:] I'm aware that the world is cold A lot of shit out there that I don't know And if we don't ever make it anywhere then I guess that's that, like that, like that, like that Hope that doesn't happen to me And if it does I'll probably get somewhere that I wanted to be And that's exactly how I'll live 'till then Yeah dude, that's that [Verse 2: Spose] Spizzy kinda like a sloth or a lemur I sleep past noon, lackadaisical demeanor No job, olds mobile and no Beamer Dirty clothes, from spose medulla to his femur And as I'm ballin' hard like the Maryland Terrapins I know children are perishing Suicide vans in Bethlehem, no Christmas carrloin' I blame nobody but american arrogance I mean, shit, we created the damn terrorists Open up the fridge on MTV Cribs As miserable kids starve with visible ribs Is it murder when I trash half my bacon cheeseburger? Dirty water slaughters daughters in countries we never heard of American childs raised up in Wal-Mart aisle's With McDonald's cups Line them up Single file While kids die from pandemics We don't get Or that Speed Stick workin' and we just don't sweat it You see in my town, the population's all white And my mom's a secretary like Madelin Albright It's alright, in Maine it's not "The Cold Vein" And I'm not Clare Danes, but shit, this is My So Called Life [Hook: Spose] (Guitar solo by Chris Quint)