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…