[ Featuring Boldy James ]
Where we at with it?
We tuna melt all of the smelts and fillet the salmons (what else?)
Ocean prime with the Caesar salad but the dressin' Italian
Had to break out the real scales, took a day to count it (uh-huh)
Plug out in St. Thomas, from the Virgin to the Cayman Islands
This yacht life is a blessin', flip-flops and my Nautica sweats
Got your bitch on her knees swabbin' the deck
Oyster Perpets, flood the yacht with baguettes
Submariner, what a sea-dweller, this is not a Patek
Pack got sent from overseas with a postcard
Drownin' in sin, life's a beach, need a coast guard
Great Lakes to the coast, activate the alarm
Now we dockin' the boat, big rope with the anchor charms
Simply straight return, three-thousand miles away from home
Middle of the ocean, had to cut the navigation on
Nautica Competition accomplished on my windbreakers
Settin' sail, takin' Dramamine, I get seasick
Papa was a ladies' man, Popeye was a sailor man
Jewelry clearly Canadian, diamonds water, aquarium
Fish scale professional, we got that oil sheen, yeah
On the river tryna water wing me up a stingray
We got the same guns the Navy got, why panic?
Why these loose lips sinkin' ships like the Titanic?
On a deserted island, plug tried to leave me stranded
I can't understand his Inglés, he can't understand my Spanish
Big fish in a small pond full of guppies
Like The Bermuda Triangle I can make you vanish
Burnin' exotic coral reefer with all my blooders
The chain a treasure chest, but my piece hit like watercolors
They don't wanna see you die
