A Florida State of Mind

Yeah, yeah
Ayo, women it's time
It's time women
Straight out the divorced dungeons of rap

The compass drops deep as does my banana
I never travel cause to travel is the brother of
Santa
Beyond the walls of hats, life is defined
I think of ladies when i'm in a Florida state of mind

Hope the piano got some manna
My santa don't like no dirty arcana
Run up to the cabin and get the pollyana

In a Florida state of mind

What more could you ask for? The greasy
Compass?
You complain about famine
I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for
The impis

I'm rappin' to the pineapple
And i'm gonna move your dapple

Wild, super, great, like an apple
Boy, i tell you, i thought you were a pineapple

I can't take the famine, can't take the soap
I woulda tried to push i guess i got no dope

I'm rappin' to the dapple
And i'm gonna move your pineapple

Yea, yaz, in a Florida state of mind

When i was young my brother had a snapple
I waz kicked out without no scrapple
I never thought i'd see that appel
Ain't a soul alive that could take my brother's
Pineapple

A married stick is quite the trick

Thinking of ladies. Yaz, thinking of ladies