16 Counties

Listen up Bub, I'm from Maine
Where ain't nobody famous
Where people move away
And some of 'em don't even claim it
Where Canadians vacation, tip bad
Get hated by the waiters
Where some people are dating even
Though they are related
I'm Spizzy Spose, one of Maine's own
I slanged lobster roles before I became grown
Now my name's known
Had jet planes flown out to LA
Then what did I do? I came home
Pinecone aroma, in the Atlantic
It's not the Bay State or
The state made of granite
But where I first rapped
Way back on my planet
My whole state behind me still
I'm Kevin Mannix
These local cats didn't think
That I would blow
They must not have been to my shows
And my little bros
They didn't think, "The kid, he could flow"
Now I look like a man, like Olympia Snowe

So throw your hands in the air
If you can't get there from here
If you sip Shipyards and like
When I spit bars
Everybody let me hear you say, "Oh yeah-yer!"
So throw your hands in the air
If you can't get there from here
If you sip Shipyards and like
When I spit bars
Everybody let me hear you say, "Oh yeah-yer!"

I'm from a place called Wells
Where snow balls fell
Where traffic gets stalled later
When it all melts
In the booth, broke loose like all Hell
It's all swell, rum punches with Rob Caldwell
And you could tell Augusta that
I called to say
The following: "Fuck Paul LePage"
There's no way he can be from
Where we've all been raised
He needs to shut his fat face
And lick the balls for days
While I'm robbin' every Marden's till
We all get paid
If that clown isn't hauled away
Bound and drowned up in the
Maine Mall in hollandaise
For trying to turn Maine
Into the Balkan States
I'm, Governor Spose, I deliver the noise
But not like Susan Collins
With a quivering voice
I got a boisterous mouth
The rap game Portland Press Herald
In flannel apparel in the oyster house
Where strippers with few teeth drop it
Lower than the murder rate
Where the old people salty like a surfer face
If a loud sound in their town reverberates
I'm from where Angus King
Isn't a burger place
We're all looking like the
Opposite of fashion week
Nobody to impress but the
Faculty at Applebee's
So if it happened on the runway
We're the last to see and actually
We don't need fresh clothes to live happily
We keep it basic, man, in Vacationland
Where all pretty lakes still
Got snakes in them
Single mothers discover it's not Utopian
From Fort Kent to Brunswick, where Bowdoin is
Now she's losing hope again
She let another insecure dude
Into the Fallopians
Screams not melodious, bruised
Laying there on the linoleum
The type of wounds that are
Not muted by Imodium
The local representative she voted in
Sugar coated it
Gloated and bloated at the podium
The promise is erroneous
Now she and her kids are in the cold again
Shivering, she's holding 'em
That's what you see
You take a look behind the foliage
And see the real Maine
It's not lobster dinners everywhere
We feel pain
I'm just saying what I see around me
Where they found me
In Maine, put 'em up for the sixteen counties

So throw your hands in the air
If you can't get there from here
If you sip ship yards and
Like when I spit bars
Everybody let me hear you say, "Oh yeah!"
So throw your hands in the air
If you can't get there from here
If you sip ship yards and
Like when I spit bars
Everybody let me hear you say, "Oh yeah!"

Sixteen counties has our state:
Cumberland and Franklin
Piscataquis and Kennebec
Oxford, androscoggin
Waldo, Washington and York
Lincoln, Knox, and Hancock
Sagadahoc and Somerset
Aroostook and Penobscot
Sixteen counties has our state:
Cumberland and Franklin
Piscataquis and Kennebec
Oxford, androscoggin
Waldo, Washington and York
Lincoln, Knox, and Hancock
Sagadahoc and Somerset
Aroostook and Penobscot