Can't Get There From Here

Spose

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    Everybody throw your hands up right now and make some God
    damn noise
    Hailing from the state, of ocean and lakes
    Get ready for those good rhymes and metaphors, the state of Maine
    changing the game
    Making music good for your brain, so open your earlobes
    Here's Spose!

    With no rims on the whip, and no collagen lips
    I rip through the state of Maine with the halogens lit
    I'm not Rick but I spit slick
    I'm rippin and breakin the fakest of rappers who think they be sinkin
    my ship quick, quick, all aboard
    From the state where they think we all mate with our cousins
    With no indoor plumbing, moose by the bakers dozens
    We got lakes, ponds, deer on lawns, papa's long gone rocking long
    johns, fat verses over purchase 30 racks of beers
    Made peers laugh and cheer throw a hand up in the atmosphere
    Cause everybody knows my name like the cast of Cheers
    But they say I shouldn't rap from here, I made it finally
    Puffed all kind of leaves, whack rapper time to leave
    Rhymes sick - lyme disease
    Pine trees, skate rails
    But mostly white trophy wives rock fake nails at bake sales
    And all the haters say Spose -

    [Chorus:]
    Are you out of your brain, rapping from Maine?
    You must be insane! (No you can't get there from here)
    Or delusional, please quit the beats and retreat to the cubical
    (But you can't get there from here)
    You must of lost your mind
    I mean those rhymes they were fine for the time but you can't
    (But you can't get there from her)
    You're from the most eastern most northern most boredome-soaked
    state
    You can't be great (You can't get there from here)

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    From where teenage moms and their babies dwell
    Where people downgrade from cocaine to oxy pills
    Where the wives get beat and no one hears them yell
    And it's not Compton or Brooklyn or A-T-L
    We spend most times weeded cause the coastline's scenic
    But the chances of succeeding are slimmer than a bulimic
    Still I put my life in rhyme form and recorded it
    On my debut and stayed true to my coordinates
    No, never recorded it, ask my subordinates
    Since back when my weed had more seeds than tournaments
    I'm going for the gold, as if that wasn't obvious
    And stopping Spose, that's like trying to handcuff an octopus
    Wake up every morning, wrote a new verse
    Even if I wasn't winning I wasn't a loser
    Look if you want to excel (2XL) like huge shirts
    Doesn't matter what your zip code is
    Just do work

    [Chorus:]
    Are you out of your brain, rapping from Maine?
    You must be insane! (No you can't get there from here)
    Or delusional, please quit the beats and retreat to the cubical
    (But you can't get there from here)
    You must of lost your mind
    I mean those rhymes they were fine for the time but you can't
    (But you can't get there from here)
    You're from the most eastern most northern most boredome-soaked
    state
    You can't be great (You can't get there from here)

    You can't get down from here without magic, well poof
    I google maps'd it I'm there maxin'
    I've seen them laughing, now I'm, the main attraction and when I die
    they'll pour out all their Pabst in my absence
    Steered off course, fuck your path I'm the captain,
    Crunch time all day cereal with my actions
    No need for lucky charms, just a bit of passion
    The make it from where Frosted Flakes fall to relaxin
    Yeah i fool, fools, use Trix on silly rabbits
    Did it just for Kix when I started out rapping
    And I grew up in Maine so they said that'll never happen
    But we got the alphabet too and I'm nasty
    Comin and killin abilities some of the illest they ever did see and
    they love it they haven't a crumb on my skill and I'm sonnin the
    dumbest of villains............

    [Chorus:]
    Are you out of your brain, rapping from Maine?
    You must be insane! (No you can't get there from here)
    Or delusional, please quit the beats and retreat to the cubical
    (But you can't get there from here)
    You must of lost your mind
    I mean those rhymes they were fine for the time but you can't
    (But you can't get there from here)
    You're from the most eastern most northern most boredome-soaked
    state
    You can't be great (You can't get there from here)

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Spose y Miles Dean Ewell

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