Yo, Let's take it back to the Maritimes Man You can't take yourself too serious Do that thing you guys were doing
Fill your cup up and chug Roll a Joint up and get fucked Ready for a kitchen party Welcome to the Maritimes [x2]
I'm from the East Coast of Canada, home of the bag pipe Known for the fiddle players, beer and our keg price Known for Alexander Keiths and the Donair Home of the Mooseheads but I don't really go there We pay a buck for a litre of gas and Smokes cost $10 a pack and We always mix our tobacco with weed, it's just the way We always done it, shit is natural to me
So let me tackle the beat and unravel the scene Let you people know what you never travel to see We got battle MC's, we got storytellers And we got awful MC's and corny motherfuckers We got everything you wanna hear Conscious to Back pack, Commercial to Gangsta R&B to Abstract, grunge to Rock, Classical to Country So many artist workin' but no one making money
Welcome to the East Coast, home of the innocence Still Piegon Holed, as a farm or a fisher man No major league teams, baseball or hockey No urban radio, just country and pop beats I'm trying to shake these stereotypes So give me space please, let me air out my life I don't even eat fish, shit I never tried lobster Can't play the fiddle, and never was a logger But I swam in clean lakes, and enjoyed cool breezes But Halifax Harbour's like swimming in diseases
We only known for Anne of Green Gables, Coal mines, The Bluenose and P.E.I potatoes The Maritimes, it's better then that We livin' in the nether times so dead it with that We got universal soul and buck 65 and The whole CTG and of course Classified We got back burner, good night, alpha flight, Lock Down Mic Boyd, first word, tro biz and hell town And a million other artists, trying to get there flow heard And Let you know that we still workin' on these outskirts
We trying to blow like Halifax Explosion Or maybe Anne Murray I know she's Nova Scotian Or Hurricane Juan blowin from the ocean Either way it goes I'm still reppin for my coast man
[Chorus]
That's how we do it down here Least that's how you think we do it down here We all pile in the kitchen Do it like this
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Copy to Clipboard: Yo, Let's take it back to the Maritimes Man You can't take yourself too serious Do that thing you guys were doing
Fill your cup up and chug Roll a Joint up and get fucked Ready for a kitchen party Welcome to the Maritimes [x2]
I'm from the East Coast of Canada, home of the bag pipe Known for the fiddle players, beer and our keg price Known for Alexander Keiths and the Donair Home of the Mooseheads but I don't really go there We pay a buck for a litre of gas and Smokes cost $10 a pack and We always mix our tobacco with weed, it's just the way We always done it, shit is natural to me
So let me tackle the beat and unravel the scene Let you people know what you never travel to see We got battle MC's, we got storytellers And we got awful MC's and corny motherfuckers We got everything you wanna hear Conscious to Back pack, Commercial to Gangsta R&B to Abstract, grunge to Rock, Classical to Country So many artist workin' but no one making money
Welcome to the East Coast, home of the innocence Still Piegon Holed, as a farm or a fisher man No major league teams, baseball or hockey No urban radio, just country and pop beats I'm trying to shake these stereotypes So give me space please, let me air out my life I don't even eat fish, shit I never tried lobster Can't play the fiddle, and never was a logger But I swam in clean lakes, and enjoyed cool breezes But Halifax Harbour's like swimming in diseases
We only known for Anne of Green Gables, Coal mines, The Bluenose and P.E.I potatoes The Maritimes, it's better then that We livin' in the nether times so dead it with that We got universal soul and buck 65 and The whole CTG and of course Classified We got back burner, good night, alpha flight, Lock Down Mic Boyd, first word, tro biz and hell town And a million other artists, trying to get there flow heard And Let you know that we still workin' on these outskirts
We trying to blow like Halifax Explosion Or maybe Anne Murray I know she's Nova Scotian Or Hurricane Juan blowin from the ocean Either way it goes I'm still reppin for my coast man
[Chorus]
That's how we do it down here Least that's how you think we do it down here We all pile in the kitchen Do it like this
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