Preposterously Dank

I seen it, it's lurkin', and it's dank
He's so preposterous, baby
He's oh so dank, he's got dilated eyeballs
And he's moving so slowly but he's
Got rhymes down to a T
You can't hate on Spose, he's from the Wells
M-E

Dearest fake rapper, please run for cover
I'm fucking up the game
I didn't bring no rubbers
Like my parents when they
Were but Reagan lovers
And high school girls are like
"that's Meghan's brother!"
Out at 4: 20 and then late for supper
Come home later
Nuke the grub up out the tupper
Where? Wells, Maine hair? Dark brown
Heineken-chugger acknowledge how it goes down
The Cutlass sputters, the
Blunt girth's blubbered
My Comfort's Southern
And baby we're just orangoutangs evolved
I sangadangle the balls throw your gunts up
Spizzy Spose what he's called wells, Maine

They call me 'Toine plus talent
Minus slurping phallus
I'm back, crack rock and Rolls Royce absent
Average height though mean on the mic
And mode of transportation: dad's
Whip or a bike
So formally introducing the formerly nerdy
Great bro in skate clothes
Jock Ezekiel and Hurley
Still slept on, me I never wake up early
But I stuff white owls call it taxidermy
Catch me jocking old Reeboks and dirty socks
I know in life things change like an equinox
And thus
This is why I'm hot: cause I lack a plot
And this fackin' pack of Backwoods is
The last crap I bought i'm saying

Uh, so get on the wagon, "bastid
" pass the absinthe i got a lack of cash
That John Lennon couldn't imagine
Grumpy attitude 'till blunski latitude
Gets me higher than you've gotta be
To get a padded room the sagging of my pants
Is also indicative of the
Slacking in my plans
And the baggage in my hands
And these weed bags can
Vanish quickly like female babies in Japan
Or China you know I'm the fuckin' Wells
Maine renegade lyrical elite
Teeth not the color of Nintendo Wii
We're jocking sweatpants, fanny packs
Bought that at TJ Maxx
Spose turn ganga black
Just bought a twenty-sack
(Smoke some trees out that bitch)