Jonathan Wyman - Can't Get There From Here lyrics

[Intro: Cam Groves] Everybody throw your hands up right now And make some goddamn noise Hailing from the state of oceans and lakes Get ready for those good rhymes and metaphors The state of Maine changing the game Make music good for your brains So open your ear lobes, this here's Spose [Verse 1] 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 raping and making the fakest of rappers who're thinking they're sinking my ship quit quick All aboard! From the state where they think we all mate with our cousins With no indoor plumbing, Moose by the baker's dozen We got lakes, ponds, deer on lawns Puff upon chron', rockin' long johns Spat verses over-purchased thirty racks of beer 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 kinda leaves Wack rapper, time to leave Rhyme's sick, Lyme disease Pine trees, skate rails While mostly white trophy wives rock fake nails at bake sales And all the haters say, Spose [Hook] Are you out of your brain!? Rapping from Maine!? You must be insane! ‘Cause you can't get there from here Or delusional Please quit the beats And retreat to the cubicle You can't get there from here You must've lost your mind! I mean, those rhymes They were fine for the time But you can't get there from here You're from the eastern-most, northern-most, boredom-soaked state You can't be great You can't get there from here [Verse 2] I'm from where teenage moms and their babies dwell Where people downgrade from c**aine to oxy pills Where the wives get beat and no one hears them yell And it's not Compton or Brooklyn or ATL 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 aborted 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 tryna handcuff an octopus Woke up every morning wrote a new verse Even if I wasn't winning I wasn't a loser Look, if you want to excel like huge shirts Doesn't matter what your zip-code is, just do work [Hook] Are you out of your brain!? Rapping from Maine!? You must be insane! ‘Cause you can't get there from here Or delusional Please quit the beats And retreat to the cubicle You can't get there from here You must've lost your mind! I mean, those rhymes They were fine for the time But you can't get there from here You're from the eastern-most, northern-most, boredom-soaked state You can't be great You can't get there from here [Verse 3] They say you can't get there from here without magic Well POOF! I Google Mapsed it, I'm there, maxin' I-I I seen 'em laughing now I'm the main attraction And when I die, they'll pour out all their Pabst in my absence Steered off course, f** your path, I'm the captain Crunch time all day, serial with my actions No need for lucky charms, just a bit of pa**ion To make it from where frosted flakes fall to relaxin' Yeah I fooled fools, used tricks on silly rabbits Did it just for kicks when I started out rapping And I grew up in Maine so they said, "it'll never happen" But we got the alphabet too, and I'm nasty: Coming to k** it abilities Some of the illest they ever did see and they love it They haven't a crumb of my sk** And I'm sonning the dumbest of villains, I'm cunning I stomached the summit, no vomiting from it Above all the beef and the k**ing and bluffing I'm bigger than something to bump when you're drunk and you're puffing your stuff, call me Spose! [Hook] Are you out of your brain!? Rapping from Maine!? You must be insane! ‘Cause you can't get there from here Or delusional Please quit the beats And retreat to the cubicle You can't get there from here You must've lost your mind! I mean, those rhymes They were fine for the time But you can't get there from here You're from the eastern-most, northern-most, boredom-soaked state You can't be great You can't get there from here [Outro] Or so they say To my man Cam Groves Stiky-1 F4 And to them motherf**in' Educated Advocates Keep keep on To Lab 7 Luch and Eliza Just keep keep on To my man Foodstamp Keep keep on and on and on and on