The King of Maine
Yo, I wake up, make a K-Cup then I blaze up
Shave with a razor blade
My hat is still crooked
I'm reading a book and my
Body was made in Maine
Man, I'm still deflecting all
The bill collectors and
I hate when they say my name
My buzz would be massive if I wasn't
Slacking and jerking to Jayden Jaymes
Celtics sticker on the bumper of a
Clunker but my vocals real fuck rap
I might sell my mic and buy a snowmobile
I can't relate to throwing money
When she makes it clap
I can relate to doing dishes
We should take a nap
Tired like Michelin of your
Wrists when they're glistening
We don't want no yacht to float but
Just a boat to go fishing in
Man my whole yard is a minor mess
Go hard till my dying breath
Owe bars to the IRS
We got no Rs in our dialect
Me and my peeps speak a
Different kind of speech
Where Verizon 4G won't reach
(Can you hear me now?)
We're coming live from where mill
Towns are still towns
Even though they shut the mills down
But I'm feeling like the King of Maine
The King of Maine
I wear a seal-skin jersey to
The Sea Dogs game
I'm the King of Maine, the King of Maine
Plow truck all gold, never hydroplane
I tell em: Welcome to 207
Welcome-welcome to 207
Welcome to 207, welcome-welcome to 207
It's the way life should be
Everything's pleasant
Tell 'em: This-th-th-this is 207
Hey, I heard the news in the street
(What's that?)
That we're the shit and you're
The pubes on the seat
Even though I triple bogey that par 5
Rangoon with my mai tai
Steal another motherfucker Wi-Fi
Got Texas Pete on my Five Guys i'm back
Facts: spit a little bit but I
Never made a gat go "Cap, cap, pap
" but my backpack on and I'm smoking
Being homeless is bogus
Paying bills is my motive can't afford G4s
I'm poor on tour in a worn '04 Ford Focus
Ayup, I know that this weed might
Be the death of me but I got this O broke
Up like it's parentheses i'm yelling "ayup
" I weigh a buck forty still
But when my finger tips touch the quill
I'll be feeling like I'm
Paul Pierce and I'm Rondo
I'm John Deere and I'm John Doe
I'm the rap star from the back yard who
Never act hard or went half heart
I'm the Peoples Douche, AKA the truth
Every time that I get in the booth
I'll be feeling like
The King of Maine, the King of Maine
If you're Batman, I must be LL bane
I'm the King of Maine, the King of Maine
I got Susan Collins giving everyone brain
I tell em: Welcome to 207
Welcome-welcome to 207
Welcome to 207, welcome-welcome to 207
It's the way life should be
Everything's pleasant
Tell 'em: This-th-th-this is 207
I'm from the 420 minus 213
I'm on the throne if you're
Looking for who to unseat
I got moose blood in my goblet
Lobsters in my optics
I'm live on the map where the dudes
Don't rap in the Altima black
When I do go past, come hop in
Whoo! Find me chillin' in Rockland
Where the townies sell Oxys so
The coroners got coffins
It's my fault I'm paid, because of what I say
I rock it for a profit
Pockets fat as Paul Lepage
Got a tattoo on my arm that says "Don't Stop"
‘Cause other guys told me
Otherwise when we talked
I told 'em Wells, Maine what the sign say
Where I go ape with my primates
Rhyme great, 16s like 2 times 8
Wine grapes and prime steaks
Damn, I'm feeling marvelous
Had a hand with no good cards
In it that I parted with, i'm an artisan
I think you're an amateur, kids, cops
Janitors all pull out their cameras when
I walk out of Hannaford
The King of Maine, the King of Maine
I got a fucking elk head hanging on my chain
The King of Maine, the King of Maine
And all the state game wardens yell my name
I tell em: Welcome to 207
Welcome-welcome to 207
Welcome to 207, welcome-welcome to 207
It's the way life should be
Everything's pleasant
Tell em: This-th-th-this is 207
Watching the Celtics!
Pierce, final seconds, Pierce puts it up
For the win ohhhh!
Knocks it down, celtics win!
WOOOOOO! C's BITCH!
Dwyane Wade finishes on the
Bench, as Paul Pierce, with a superb
Game, able to hit - now
The officials will review it, but it
Looks like he clearly let it
Go before the buzzer, and the Celtics
Will take a 3-0 lead in
This best of 7 series
Big play by Paul Pierce