Giorgi Baino - A Dude Named Spose lyrics

[Verse 1] Now let me tell you a little story 'bout a dude named Spose Who spits the rap lyrics wearing Pac Sun clothes A fan of that old school rap, he crafts flows To be bumped from the trunks of Mainers and Ma**holes Holed up in a maroon van Secondhand smoke and some country jams Zoom fast through the windshield to the back seat Reading R.L. Stine, k**ing time that's me The year's '93, almost nine finally Discman in my hand, I'm bumping TLC Not a care in the world just a Huffy in the back That could change six-speeds in like no time flat Jordan jersey? Jordache? Those were must-haves Second grade I wasn't rad, I had a mustache This one chick turned around and told me I was weird And I was, but now I got you throwing up your beer, my name's [Chorus] Spo-o-o-o-ose Hands to the ceiling if you're catching the feeling, my name's Spo-o-o-o-ose Put your hands up, who*es and the man-s*uts Spo-o-o-o-ose To the rafters, ba*tards, it's the master, mister Spo-o-o-o-ose Wells, Maine in the motherf**ing house [Verse 2] I know how cool kids feel My first whip, Dick Tracy, big wheel, I was kind of a big deal Got into an accident, I smashed my face I must've missed pre-school for, like, 15 days First ca**ette tape? New Kids on the Block Also had Kriss Kross and alternative rock So, who would've thought I would spit it like this Just a little white kid with some British Knight kicks What a riddle life is, so pa** the lighter Cause I'm still sick and tight as virgins with meningitis It's hereditary that I fix up these lines Cause I was born in '85, the son of a cable guy I learned getting high was a wonderful way to fly So, hi, hello, Nikes if you pan down Bump it at your campground I outta soak it up like a Sham-Wow, what's my name? [Chorus] Spo-o-o-o-ose Hands to the ceiling if you're catching the feeling, my name's Spo-o-o-o-ose Put your hands up, who*es and the man-s*uts Spo-o-o-o-ose To the rafters, ba*tards, it's the master, mister Spo-o-o-o-ose Wells, Maine in the motherf**ing house [Verse 3] Lastly here's the story of how I became Spose How it's Heineken over Veuve Cliquot How I outshine a headliner when I open a show And how I got the records they bump when they're smoking their bowls I was fourteen into emceeing and sh** Started a group with Stiky-1, Zach B, and the Miff It was at my mom's house, on the second floor If you're from Wells, Maine then you know we called it F-4 Then I went solo like Beirut cups Up in SoPo with Jim Brown, my producer I found my steez, that is: just be me Leaving peeps at the beach to put speech to beats Peach blunts, used to puff each evening Now people only come into Maine for three reasons: Lobster rolls, Spizzy Spose, and ski season I'm dope up in Maine, what's my motherf**in' name!? [Chorus] Spo-o-o-o-ose Hands to the ceiling if you're catching the feeling, my name's Spo-o-o-o-ose Put your hands up, who*es and the man-s*uts Spo-o-o-o-ose To the rafters, ba*tards, it's the master, mister Spo-o-o-o-ose Wells, Maine in the motherf**ing house