Spose, Mike Be - Damn Bro lyrics

Yeah, Mike Be
I'm in the studio right now with Spose
My whole body draped in denim
(Jaw Gems) even my socks
We smoking joints (P Dank)
Drinking champagne
(P Dank) with raw shark in it
'bout to put you in a
Port-a-potty and tip it over (splash)

Allow me to be curt like Nirvana
The way you cats rock is soft like koala
Livin' undriven with stoplight persona
I plot 'til I pop like Madonna
You lost sight i'm frostbite with talkin'
You bite like piranha
I rock mics right 'til I'm posh
Spiced with commas
Walk on stage, rip quick like pantyhose
From a small scene
But my dreams all grandiose
I came with the flamethrower
You bros the same hoes
Just as lame as The Chainsmokers
This the Maine opus i remain focused
Bunch of tough types
Bluff like playing poker
I put Nikes on Ivy like Frank Ocean
I came broken
But now I'm fixed like WrestleMania
I've been Maine, but my pen game Pennsylvania
Spit academia, nuts, macadamia
Rap facts since Iraq was Mesopotamia
Bunch of amateurs, I rep Acadia
First things firstly
Never owned a Lamborghini, never showed mercy
Dudes need attention, bros look thirsty
Take a bow, bro, do a curtsy
Back to the nursery
Your past is shady, your future look murky
My pockets so fat
They might do a couple burpees
I open rappers up, break apart like Hershey's
Just a local man with passion
Who they can't imagine
Pants are saggin', rancid fashion
Make 'em cancel pad and pencil
Ansel Adams portrait, Appalachian
Preachin' adoration, more congratulations
Sword to pad and paper
Sworn to back the neighbors
Sort of had to stop promoting
Just to 'preciate the moment (ah)
And then it's back to work and rapping verses
Taking rappers' purses, breaking magic
Push a product they can have to purchase
Ain't no average person
Made my own inertia for the clones to worship
Life's a circus, I'm the ringleader
Firebreather, Ryan Peters, lion tamer
Ah nah, guess again
Sweat holy water on the mic
So it's blessed again
Go forth, you hold hoarse, like equestrian
I'm all ten, top ten plays on ESPN
Click here to find out more
From a regular guy with
Same kind style shorts
To enormous cyborg five more horns
On the mic, gets high, go and find Al Gore
Sweatband Björn Borg at the fort like pasta
Flow cold, St lawrence, Madawaska
Got me like the North Star, to my North Pole
Out of metal bars in my repertoire
Chunky portfold oral oracle, minor miracle
Motivations not material (okay, here we go)
My worn, plain flannel, my wardrobe camo
My written make the competition
Shake like tambo
My fans know, rhyme Rambo, damn, bro