[Verse 1]

Let it ride, Flo Ride, Yes sir!

My brethren habitate Wells, Maine

Where the skies are clear

Dad's gut deer and sip upon Shipyard beer

We attend house parties and try to get loose

And when we're drunk driving home we try not to hit moose

Me, I come from familial dysfunction

I'll be hiding in my room loudly bumping to Smashing Pumpkins

"The world is a vampire" dirtier than toilets

I stay lit like campfires just to avoid it

It's a cold world, my mom can't even start her Cutlass

Hicks with no bicuspids in the bushes busting muskets

We peruse light-less roads, blazing, dodging possums

As private business degenerates into public gossip, baby

Pine, moose, lobster

Wealthy folks cohabitate with the impoverished

In a sense, the innocence has been demolished

I mean, you see four-wheelers, I see drug dealers

The underbelly's less obvious

The contrast alarming

The youthful residents once dreamed of departing

Just to set precedence like Polk, Taft, Harding

Resort to jail, coke, or the army

Baby, I know you wanna leave

Instead inhale marijuana leaves

Which makes sense

Like the dude collecting bottles constantly

Follow me, wannabe, as we wallow in mediocrity

We'll play that life lottery

We'll get to where ought to be

[Hook:]

I'm aware that the world is cold

A lot of shit out there that I don't know

And if we don't ever make it anywhere then I guess that's that, like that, like that, like that

Hope that doesn't happen to me

And if it does I'll probably get somewhere that I wanted to be

And that's exactly how I'll live 'till then

Yeah dude, that's that

[Verse 2: Spose]

Spizzy kinda like a sloth or a lemur

I sleep past noon, lackadaisical demeanor

No job, Oldsmobile and no Beamer

Dirty clothes, from Spose, medulla to his femur

And as I'm ballin' hard like the Maryland Terrapins

I know children are perishing

Suicide vans in Bethlehem, no Christmas carolin'

I blame nobody but American arrogance

I mean, shit, we created the damn terrorists

Open up the fridge on MTV Cribs

As miserable kids starve with visible ribs

Is it murder when I trash half my bacon cheeseburger?

Dirty water slaughters daughters in countries we never hearda

Americans' childs raised up in WalMart aisles

With McDonald's cups

Line them up single file

While kids die from pandemics

We don't get

All that Speed Stick's working and we just don't sweat it

You see in my town, the population's all white

And my mom's a secretary like Madeleine Albright

It's alright, and Maine's not "The Cold Vein"

And I'm not Clare Danes, but shit, this is my so-called life

[Hook: Spose]

(Guitar solo by Chris Quint)