This is about bronies. They communicate by stomping.
Yo, let's take it back to the Maritimes, man
Can't take yourself too serious
Yo, do that thing you guys were doing
(One, two)
Fill your cup up and chug (yeah)
Roll a joint up and get fucked
Ready for a kitchen party (the Atlantic)
Welcome to the Maritimes
Fill your cup up and chug (yo)
Roll a joint up and get fucked (come on, man, we boozin')
Ready for a kitchen party (we in the kitchen, drinkin')
Welcome to the Maritimes (come on, do this for the Maritimes, man, spit it)
I'm from the East Coast of Canada, home of the bagpipe
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 (damn), 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, then unravel the scene
And let you people know what you never travel to see
We got battle MCs, we got storytellers
And we got awful MCs and corny motherfuckers
We got everything you wanna hear
Conscious to backpack, commercial to gangsta
R&B to abstract, grunge to rock, classical to country
So many artists workin' but no one making money
Welcome to the East Coast, home of the innocents
Still pigeonholed as a farmer or a fisherman
No major league teams, baseball or hockey
No urban radio, just country and pop beats
I'm tryna 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 another time, so dead it with that
We got Universal Soul and Buck 65
And the whole UCG, and of course Classified
We got Backburner, Goo Night, Alpha Flight, Lock Down
Mic Boyd, First Words, Trobiz and Helltown
And a million other artists, tryna get their 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 blowing from the ocean
Either way it goes, I'm still repping for my coast, man
Fill your cup up and chug
Roll a joint up and get fucked (and that's how we do it down here)
Ready for a kitchen party (at least that's how you think we do it down here)
Welcome to the Maritimes (you know, we all pile in the kitchen, do it like this)
Fill your cup up and chug
Roll a joint up and get fucked
Ready for a kitchen party
Welcome to the Maritimes
Ha, welcome to the Maritimes
Can't take yourself too serious
Yo, do that thing you guys were doing
(One, two)
Fill your cup up and chug (yeah)
Roll a joint up and get fucked
Ready for a kitchen party (the Atlantic)
Welcome to the Maritimes
Fill your cup up and chug (yo)
Roll a joint up and get fucked (come on, man, we boozin')
Ready for a kitchen party (we in the kitchen, drinkin')
Welcome to the Maritimes (come on, do this for the Maritimes, man, spit it)
I'm from the East Coast of Canada, home of the bagpipe
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 (damn), 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, then unravel the scene
And let you people know what you never travel to see
We got battle MCs, we got storytellers
And we got awful MCs and corny motherfuckers
We got everything you wanna hear
Conscious to backpack, commercial to gangsta
R&B to abstract, grunge to rock, classical to country
So many artists workin' but no one making money
Welcome to the East Coast, home of the innocents
Still pigeonholed as a farmer or a fisherman
No major league teams, baseball or hockey
No urban radio, just country and pop beats
I'm tryna 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 another time, so dead it with that
We got Universal Soul and Buck 65
And the whole UCG, and of course Classified
We got Backburner, Goo Night, Alpha Flight, Lock Down
Mic Boyd, First Words, Trobiz and Helltown
And a million other artists, tryna get their 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 blowing from the ocean
Either way it goes, I'm still repping for my coast, man
Fill your cup up and chug
Roll a joint up and get fucked (and that's how we do it down here)
Ready for a kitchen party (at least that's how you think we do it down here)
Welcome to the Maritimes (you know, we all pile in the kitchen, do it like this)
Fill your cup up and chug
Roll a joint up and get fucked
Ready for a kitchen party
Welcome to the Maritimes
Ha, welcome to the Maritimes
Lyrics submitted by Inoue versus Date
The Maritimes Lyrics as written by Luke Boyd
Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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I don't know if this is just my opinion but i kinda saw this song sorta like eminem's-what if i was white and he's trying to brush of a sterio type