Boblo Boat

Cruising down the river, dancing 'til your feet got numb
Cool, summer breezes blowing through your hair
As you stood gazing down the river
In anticipation of the thrill of the dizzying rides at the amusement park
Ah, memories of Boblo Island

Oh, is your world ain't nothing but a squirrel tryna get a nut
Just jealous of everybody that's headed out on that Boblo boat
It is the perfect weather and the perfect time to enjoy a few snacks
Oh, man, I wish I was joining you, a little cheese and crackers
A little Cana wine, a little Riunite on ice, some Harvey's Bristol Cream
But let's do this
Only on Smooth FM

Nothing compared to our family trips
My uncle shook hands with a manly grip
All this hand-me-down shit I had, had an uncanny fit
All the gangstas I had in my family had me anti-bitch
My granddaddy mistress caught the business from my granny fist
That was back 'fore I was born
Pop told stories 'bout it that would last for hours-long
And as a family we was just so happy when him and mama got along
On the Boblo boat

Uh, on our way to that black amusement park
Wood rollercoasters, crack sold on plastic scooter cards
Uh, smoking grass at the vintage food court
Broken glass, waiting on you on the swimming pool floor
I came across my identity on the Boblo boat
That's where I lost my virginity, no condom, though

That's when paranoia hit me like when superstition does
Left my inhibitions, I guess where my supervision was
Parties on the way to the island would be the livest, though
First time big bro hit the bottle was on the Boblo boat
But neither one of us knew that we would both grow up and turn to alcoholics, though
Boblo boat

Hey, hey, hey, lil' Craig, come here, hey, hit this nigga
Nigga, don't worry 'bout what the fuck it is, just drink
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Some of my better times, I shared with you
I shared with you, yeah
Shit, all of my better days, I shared with you
I shared with you, shit

And now I gotta wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, shit
Shit, stuck inside a rat race (fuck)
Rat race (fuck, fuck)
Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up again
Stuck inside this rat race (fuck)

Yeah, look
Twist the cap, lift the bottle back, swig it
Dig it; ten-inch rims on my mama's Civic
Ten-inch woofers in the trunk to be specific
They bump, rattle the license plate, plus the windows tinted

Don't even give a fuck that it's dented, bitch, I'm the man now
I'm rolling, driving it slow as if it's stolen
Piling up bros like we was clothing on a dresser
Calling up hoes like we was Jodeci, let's check her
Double D's like double-deckers, I wanna sex her
But these keys don't come with game on how to finesse her
Five semesters left until college, I'm under pressure
I'm not a real nigga 'til I undress her, I gotta 'press her

This was my main concern back when concerns were lesser
Nowadays, I often yearn to press the backspace button
Or hit return, but life is not no word processor
Most folks would burn the sess to burn the stress of
My real-life trauma
Plus fickle niggas thinking they done heard the best of
Jermaine Lamarr, but that's insane, it couldn't be further left of

The truth is that my new shit slap, you never heard it better
Give me a sec, I murder sectors
Prefer to let you see it rather than say it, but it spill out
I gotta chill out
Say, "Fuck the world" and never pull out
We had no Boblo boat

But I could note those times is like a Bible quote
B.C., before cellphones, the first time I would smoke
I was six years old, but that's for another chapter
That's for another story, to God be the glory
I made it out unscathed, and now I sunbathe
With my son in Tanzanian sunrays thinking 'bout dumb days
Thinking 'bout dumb days

This is 808-Ray
Nigga don't worry about what the fuck it is, just drink



Credits
Writer(s): Michal Urbaniak, Urszula Dudziak, Ryan Daniel Montgomery, Pee Wee Ford, Bernard Pret, Rayshon Lamont Cobbs, Jermaine L. Cole, Marcello Valenzano, Andre Christopher Lyon, Anthony Jackson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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