Oh snap, the Old Trout’s back with a boat full of gas and loads of new tackle. Thrown in the path of a sword that I’m going to get like I’m magnet fishing the moat of a castle. I’m loving this stuff, gonna get a bum wrist subtracting a ton of big fish off my bucket list. I like to hit the water chum equipped plus bring stuff equally fun as a thunder stick. Yep! All of these minnows are getting ate. I switch to artificial lures when I’m out of bait. You can find me sitting in the middle of a lake with a shanty or a pontoon depending on the date and I wait. If they bite less than a dog in a muzzle, or you get skunked that’s part of the struggle. I’ve missed more than fog in the jungle but I look at everything like a solvable puzzle. Soon enough they will be there to play, biting the hook and get carried away. Even when my hair is gray, I’m preparing to slay then I find them like Jeremy wade. My memory level is higher than cheap monofilament mixed with the strength of a braid. I care what I say and intend to be using comparable line’s that barely fray. Not a Scottish dance, kilt on a jig that got a skirt like it’s bouncing with squealing tires. Going in depth swimmingly similar to the deepest diver or reef admirer. I reel in a needle nose gar and i’m hardly in need of pliers. Feeding um shiners in the south. Catching Largemouth that are bigger than Steven Tyler‘s. If you wanna go fishing then I’m down, down, down. A big one’s going down, down, down. When I write a verse I put it down, down, down. Connecting words I got it down, down, down pat. When I’m sad I’m down, down, down. My winter coat is filled with down, down, down. But it’s not like being padded down, down, down. At the end of the day I’m laying down, down, down. In the ground you can dig for worms. Better grip em early they ain’t just for birds. Throw em on a rig and let them sink and submerge to get a sturgeon or some bottom feeders in the rivers. I don’t keep those but I skillet a perch when I’m feeling the urge, working on my skill with a verse. String the walleye like the illest of words if they’re written in cursive then the grilling occurs. I’m a rook, always straight with the lines in 2 ways and catchy adding hooks to either every few days. Breaking a wall down without drinking the koolaid as a Mexican, If you can say the same then touché. I’m human race chilling at the top of the food chain. I’ll (come bust/combust) like blue flames from butane. Fighting everything considered as some huge game. I’m Bruce Wayne fused with Hwoarang and Lui Kang. Getting the kicker to go. This bigger motor just isn’t as slow. Drifting in wind or positioning with the current flow is not as consistent to troll. I stick to the goal even if it’s beginning to snow. Living in Michigan’s cold so whenever it’s winter, I’m switching back to little poles and drilling some holes. Spinning a hand auger, fishing is damn hard for edible stuff in the vicinity of Ann Arbor because of PFAS in the water. I hit the Great Lake charters up. On occasion I’ve traveled farther. Ate more than a shark swimming through a packed harbor. Caught tagged fish without spray paint or black marker. Got a Garmin and plan to mark em. Call me the bass brawler. Pro with this trade, I’d say I can barter. If you wanna go fishing then I’m down, down, down. A big one’s going down, down, down. When I write a verse I put it down, down, down. Connecting words I got it down, down, down pat. When I’m sad I’m down, down, down. My winter coat is filled with down, down, down. But it’s not like being padded down, down, down. At the end of the day I’m laying down, down, down.

I’ve lived half of my existence casting lines fixed with tackle tied to swivels. Some snap and then I get viscous. Now, I have a leader (to bait/debate) like when Douglas replied to Lincoln. I’m fastening clip-less. Simply a mastermind with the fishes. I make it look easy going for the gold, catching midas cichlids. Clowning sinisterly for dinner more than Pennywise to lil kids. Their running like an exercise in fitness but it’s a Dexter kind of kill since I (rap/wrap) everywhere while I table the next inside of my hit list. I’m Ill but a pleasurable type of sickness so why fight the symptoms if I’m feeling well and fine this instant. You here to hear the truth?then I’m a testifying witness. Up to get the job done, call it an energizing business. I get em to stop flipping like I just retired a gymnast. After the club they settle down, that’s a step higher than mistress. I’m an enterprising fisherman. It’s best to try your dishes presented with rice and fixins while set beside some mix drinks. My style is jazzy, and a bit funky. Like the Vatican city, a little country. A lot of hip-hop and some rock ‘n’ roll. I vibe to everything. You can hear it inside my soul. Electronic, pop, reggae, trap. Swingy with blues and a hint of Latin in a rap. A tiny twist of R&B when I jam slow. I vibe to everything. You can hear it inside my soul. When I got some problems, a rod is how to solve em. I visit Jensen Beach and hit the causeway from autumn to may because it’s awesome. I wanna catch a dolphin but not the flipper kind, mahi-mahi’s what you call em. Chartering, I sit tight and hope to get the big fights. Skip a 9 to 5, I’ll do this 6 AM to midnights. Trolling with the perfect (knot/knot) speed and (tied/tide) just right. (All bright/Albright) connecting lines together better than string lights. I’m not pro staff but I’ve got a massive clothes stash and most of it don’t match any master angler embroidered patch. At home, I’ll always catch and release what I won’t snack on continuously and call those Zebcos, a (real/reel) throwback. This last year was bad here but I can’t tear. Made it to the dock and got an album out. That’s clear! Glad you have ears that can hear these mad weird punchlines. I’m a smooth goat (for rapping/fur wrapping) y’all, cashmere. My style is jazzy and a bit funky. Like the Vatican city, a little country. A lot of hip-hop and some rock ‘n’ roll. I vibe to everything. You can hear it inside my soul. Electronic, pop, reggae, trap. Swingy with blues and a hint of Latin in a rap. A tiny twist of R&B when I jam slow. I vibe to everything. You can hear it inside my soul.

To introduce myself I need to break the ice. Any given day fishing the bite may be nice. I don’t play with a knife, cuz I do fillet precise. It’s a perfect matrimony when you see me (throw in/throwing) some rice. For that, I’m going out in the cold wind with some warm clothes and I’ll close in to a hot spot and auger holes until my toes are frozen. Below zero, blowing my nose while snowed into a shanty but satisfied as polar bears with the coke again. I’m chilling in the winter. Taking a cat out similar to Joe Exotic and Carol Baskin, I plan to (shiver/shiv her). Giving Jack Frost the middle finger, I consider living ripping lips and just trying to witness a tip up trigger. I use a minnow or wiggler over an artificial. I want to catch all of these fish but it’s awfully wishful. It could be the harshest blizzard with the hardest drizzle I’d be part icicle and still hit a target like I launched a missile. It’s a brisk feeling under 32 degrees. So cold I can walk on water. Snowmobile’s beat skates, snowshoes or skis but it’s so cold I can walk on water. Need to bring the (heat or/heater) I’m certain that you would freeze. So cold I can walk on water. (Amen/Aiming) for (gusto/gusts though) I stay shooting the breeze, so cold that I can walk on water. I’m eating well but healthy from hiking gently on liquid so hard it’s like it’s mineral content is heavy. If I’m on thin ice, I’m making small steps stealthy. In case I break through, I’m taking my (picks/pics) not a selfie. You need to get into it like an igloo with Inuits. I fish (intense/in tents). Sitting as if a penguin’s egg’s within my legs. When you’re using propane then open them little vents unless you want a headache or dizziness in some chilly temps. I’ve lingered in the fumes during distant interludes. Heated as a fever and trust me It really isn’t cool. With a spinning spoon, I’ve caught tons of stuff on a single spool and the view’s like looking down some in ground mini pools. Until I was 8 and a half I made the plan to play in the bath. I figured that I’d extend the length of my time as great as I can. I could watch my skin change like spraying a tan. Any questions setting the hook, it’s easy as when (your raising/you raisin) your hand. It’s a brisk feeling under 32 degrees. So cold I can walk on water. Snowmobile’s beat skates, snowshoes or skis but it’s so cold I can walk on water. Need to bring the (heat or/heater) I’m certain that you would freeze. So cold I can walk on water. (Amen/Aiming) for (gusto/gusts though) I stay shooting the breeze, so cold that I can walk on water.

Open the bail, hold it, cast and send the lure in the path of something like a salmon then get set to reel fast as you can. When it gets back, unhook it and do that again. Open the bail, hold it, cast and send the lure in the path of something like a salmon then get set to reel fast as you can. When it gets back, unhook it and do that again. I’m a freak of nature who seemed to say words rhythmically and unique to a banging beat ever since I was a teenager plus I’ve speeded into 8 foot waves to reel in lakers. Might just be in 3M neoprene waders where you’re seeing gators. There’s saltwater, brackish and fresh. 3 flavors. I’m a team player to complete strangers. Making more than a shred of cheddar without a cheese grater. Since the early 90s I’ve shown appreciation to screensavers. Digital fish, I’m even looking at them. Better than nothing when you only think about being good with a (pen/penn). I own a slammer with a gold handle. Landing a big old flathead catfish in a local channel’s no hassle. With that, I sit back and chit chat while trolling then get bass to hit fast when I jig plastics slowly. For walleye, it’s a floating twisty tail and sinker mostly. Trying to guide em in the net like the opposite of a goalie. Open the bail, hold it, cast and send the lure in the path of something like a salmon then get set to reel fast as you can. When it gets back, unhook it and do that again. Open the bail, hold it, cast and send the lure in the path of something like a salmon then get set to reel fast as you can. When it gets back, unhook it and do that again. And again Unhook it and do that again. When it gets back, unhook it and do that again. And again Unhook it and do that again. When it gets back, unhook it and do that again. I’ve casted into distant ripples, landing In the middle, still I act surprised when the rod tip begins to wiggle. It means I’ve got a shot without a needle or a pistol with a stick, to make a splash better than a cymbal. Skip the little minnows there in kindergarten. I’m looking for the old school where a big ones starving. Clean it up and put the carcass in my garden because It supplies a nice amount of nitrogen for farming. A Crappie has a proper name. Crops sprout and grow. Using spider wire for the drop shot control. I’m also good in running water where the Trout’s got a flow. When I’m on fire I don’t stop, drop and roll. Stove top hot similarity. It’s an addiction, only getting the fix is it’s own therapy. I’m choosing my lure color and kind carefully usually based on the weather and water clarity. From hindsight, I learned to keep my lines tight and tied right. A lot of em like light tackle. Sometimes the pike bite. Without a steel leader, I could have a $20 lure with a huge perch on, a muskie’ll steal either. There’s a beach scene I’ve been loving the quote. I still smell fish even after smothered in soap. Touching a coat of slime gloveless and cutting their throat as I’m taking a bow throwing from the front of the boat. Open the bail, hold it, cast and send the lure in the path of something like a salmon then get set to reel fast as you can. When it gets back, unhook it and do that again. Open the bail, hold it, cast and send the lure in the path of something like a salmon then get set to reel fast as you can. When it gets back, unhook it and do that again. And again Unhook it and do that again. When it gets back, unhook it and do that again. And again Unhook it and do that again. When it gets back, unhook it and do that again.

Sometimes a fish isn’t eating and I got a feeling that people don’t know the reason why. No need for reeling if someone’s concealing this certain produce that’s always cheap to buy. Without the sun ever beaming, if I catch ya peeling I’m leaving and I won’t even try. I’ve seen a skunk and think it’s all because of a banana nana nana nana I’m sure you’ve heard of this superstition if you are fishing, that came from cargo ships but somehow still a new tradition. They’re good for humans if you’re talking about the foods nutrition but if we pack a bunch for lunch bad luck is too consistent. Just know that accidents may happen when you’re cruising with em. If you bring it don’t be surprised if the crew gets distant. I’ve heard some rumors where captains have one and blew their engine or stab themselves with a gaff, bananas choose their victim. If consumed you might just have some puke to deal with. Most definitely it got nothing to do with feeling seasick. Not a secret, frequently it can be an inconvenience to the majority of anglers who’s brains think in agreement. reveal it on board and see if your friends are lenient as you’re taken back to shore while receiving the silent treatment. Some don’t believe that’s it’s true but they have haven’t seen skiffs sink from an evil fruit that’s leaving them in some deep sh…. Sometimes a fish isn’t eating and I got a feeling that people don’t know the reason why. No need for reeling if someone’s concealing this certain produce that’s always cheap to buy. Without the sun ever beaming, if I catch ya peeling I’m leaving and I won’t even try. I’ve seen a skunk and think it’s all because of a banana nana nana nana If fishermen don’t get a bite there has to be an excuse. Oddly enough, when it happens there’s usually someone who managed evading the rules and they get accused. It’s strange but basically almost the same as taking a noose. That can explain the Pepe la pews, it especially does when my bait is chartreuse. So you want to win a tournament? you really don’t have to work for it if you can circumvent opponents after you have cursed them with some hidden nourishment in their storage cabinets to turn the myth into reality then you wouldn’t have to be concerned a bit. What more can I say? It only takes a moment trolling a bay to know the dismay from losing your phone or pole in an ocean or lake. There’s no controlling your fate if you’re holding a favorite meal to every sort of an ape. I don’t even play. Just throw them away unless you want to have a horrible day. I outa get a whopper following the popper, at the very least a bluegill on a bobber. Jigging near the bottom is my bread and butter but I’m out of luck at a spot that’s hot as lava. Commonly my hooks are sharp as Hanzo katanas. We got a problem if you brought a banana nana nana nana. Sometimes a fish isn’t eating and I got a feeling that people don’t know the reason why. No need for reeling if someone’s concealing this certain produce that’s always cheap to buy. Without the sun ever beaming, if I catch ya peeling I’m leaving and I won’t even try. I’ve seen a skunk and think it’s all because of a banana nana nana nana

I don’t have to say what I’m thinking, you already know my plan. Won’t go bananas when I chill, relaxing with a pole in hand. Throwing back both most catches and almost frozen cans. Sitting on some water that’s on top of white or golden sands. With a supportive family, I’m a spoiled man. Not a mechanic, having oily pans. Landing fish that make you soil pants. Controlling drag so it won’t just snap my fluorocarbon leader. Got a stretch on it but it ain’t a yoga mat. I over cast like a cloudy sky so I have a nice amount to fry and keep reeling until I’m out of line. I’ve lost and found my mind continuing this mountain climb. Now, I’ve reached the peak and see clearly the suns about to shine. I’ve been slaying since 86 when I was maybe 6. That age you play with sticks. Mine was made for holding weight and breaking lips. Bait flipping, I seem to feel the faintest nips. Appreciating the pictures of any species an angler gets. If it’s dawn, I want to be at the honey hole when everything’s calm. Ready to set it and battle a heavy contender. My grip’s strong. Caught and released, about to live long then get another hit like this song and yell fish on. If it’s dawn, I want to be at the honey hole when everything’s calm. Ready to set it and battle a heavy contender. My grip’s strong. Caught and released, about to live long then get another hit. Continuing as I fish on. Larger version of ping-pong but a smaller kind than tennis, was exactly my thought as soon as I saw the size a gill net is. A definite resemblance but not as fun as catching stuff with a rod so I never tried to use one as a preference. Blessed with this goal to focus as I’m casting tackle, I can make a fish holy always after gaffing mackerel. Dropping bait, I use a canoe or kayak to travel and row more than a field of corn when I grab a paddle. That’s a foreshadow. For now, I’m hanging on the beach. Hooking a lot but i’m not gang banging in the streets. Hate to do them foul so I’m aiming for their cheeks. Like a plain and basic V8, concentrated with some (beats/beets). Beast mode confusing predators to eat these tubes then get returned to keep my game stocked up without the influence of Redditors. When using herring or cigar minnows learn to expect the birds to take the bait and make a feathered kite, that’s what their theft deserves. If it’s dawn, I want to be at the honey hole when everything’s calm. Ready to set it and battle a heavy contender. My grip’s strong. Caught and released, about to live long then get another hit like this song and yell fish on. If it’s dawn, I want to be at the honey hole when everything’s calm. Ready to set it and battle a heavy contender. My grip’s strong. Caught and released, about to live long then get another hit. Continuing as I fish on.

I’m going to the store. I got a lot of gear but I’ll always need more. For instance, I just ran out of ounce sinkers and I might as well pick up some 3/4’s. In a Freightliner, I pull into the parking lot attached to a trailer guaranteeing me the farthest spot, by the loading docks. Making sure I’m all locked up when I start the long walk toward the door. (Oh jeez/OGs), I have hopes and dreams that one day my albums proceeds can go to boat fees. Finally made it in to see a log cabin setting looking cozy and every wall is presenting trophies. You know me, I’m heading straight to my section. B lining, not going any other direction. To my credit, I don’t need unnecessary spending. When kids grow up our toys get more expensive. My mission is fishing and the plan won’t stop. I lose track of time like I have no clock but when I’m out of something to pack my tacklebox, I’m traveling back to my bass pro shop. My mission is fishing and the plan won’t stop. I lose track of time like I have no clock. Even if I want to keep my ammo stocked, I’m traveling back to the bass pro shop. I almost always begin at the reels to see if their having deals and ask to check exactly just how rad in my hand it feels then grab a rod to match and imagine attacking meals. 50% off 400 dollars, now that’s a steal. Move on down (the/to) line, 20 pound is fine but I’ll settle for 17 if they’re out of my kind. A lighter leader is common. I’d give mono a try if flourocarbon was garbage. Seagar is about as high quality as you can get. For kicks, I’ll dig into some jigs and think a bit if I’m in need of plastics. Oh yeah, I came for lead weights. I’m headed straight for em anyway and while I’m here I’ll pick up licenses for every state I plan to visit. Already over a grand isn’t it. Rather peep the trolling motors over clothing this instant. There’s camping stuff glasses and guns. I lack interest, plus I’ve walked a bunch. Too bad I don’t have a Fitbit. Before I wrap it up, one last lap around the track to just feed my habit and spend the rest of my stamina. Examining rapala lures and tallying totals using my algebra and adding until I have enough. As I make my way to pay for items that I’m carrying, my favorite thing is stopping at the fish tank to stare at em. I wonder how much they would charge to cast in the aquarium or I’ll just say I’m their ichthyologist veterinarian. My mission is fishing and the plan won’t stop. I lose track of time like I have no clock but when I’m out of something to pack my tacklebox, I’m traveling back to my bass pro shop. My mission is fishing and the plan won’t stop. I lose track of time like I have no clock. Even if I want to keep my ammo stocked, I’m traveling back to the bass pro shop. My mission is fishing and the plan won’t stop. I lose track of time like I have no clock but when I’m out of something to pack my tacklebox, I’m traveling back to my bass pro shop. My mission is fishing and the plan won’t stop. I lose track of time like I have no clock. Even if I want to keep my ammo stocked, I’m traveling back to the bass pro shop.

I work until the weekend During a busy season, So-oh-oh I’m glaring through a dirty window. Staring at this cement road. Waiting for the weekend. A break is what I’m seeking, so-oh-oh This is what I’m dreaming for. Reeling as the clean wind blows. Just another day getting up for work. I’m hurting through the week but I need all the money that I’ve earned to get something between a muskie and a perch. Pulling all this weight, I wish I could stop retrieving for a jerk. My mind has often thought of water. When I’m there it doesn’t wander. I ponder on stocking a private pond with some monsters. Ordering a plain patty without anything is bonkers but it’s not just talk, Burger King got nothing on my whoppers. To get some slobs, you’re gonna need to spend some dollars so I’ve secured my job and hold it down like a bobber with a hook set. I book a charter after a good check. Bait chucking and trucking just wondering what I could net. Waiting to cast is hard as breaking my back. It’s the same with a fractured spine when you’re snapping a blank in half. Someday I’ll have a watercraft with a living space in the cabin. I’m saving for that then changing my occupation to captain. I work until the weekend During a busy season, So-oh-oh I’m glaring through a dirty window. Staring at this cement road. Waiting for the weekend. A break is what I’m seeking, so-oh-oh This is what I’m dreaming for. Reeling as the clean wind blows. I’m good at my position but was thrown into the deep end. Looking down at concrete like the mafia got me sleeping with the fishes. Air riding, just fantasizing and dreaming. An obvious recipe is when any kind are in (season and/seasoning). Eating and reeling heavy weight really might compare. For that, I buckle down as if I’m sitting in a fighting chair. Some types are on the brink of extinction and I’m aware. I’d never get endangered species sushi cuz I find it rare. According to some poor folks I’m doing the boring stuff, supplying all their stores with their groceries and baby’s formulas. My employment got me more swamped than Florida but I would rather be on a fishing boat or a tour bus. Like a deadbeat dad, I’m not excited about the labor but I go the extra mile (in overdrive/and over drive)to count the paper. If I was to bet on if an Old Trout’s flavor is favorable, I’d ask what’s the highest amount to wager? I work until the weekend During a busy season, So-oh-oh I’m glaring through a dirty window. Staring at this cement road. Waiting for the weekend. A break is what I’m seeking, so-oh-oh This is what I’m dreaming for. Reeling as the clean wind blows. I work until the weekend During a busy season, So-oh-oh I’m glaring through a dirty window. Staring at this cement road. Waiting for the weekend. A break is what I’m seeking, so-oh-oh This is what I’m dreaming for. Reeling as the clean wind blows.

Row, Row, Row Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row Ride on, Ride on, Ride on, Ride on Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row Ride on, Ride on, Ride on, Ride on Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row Ride on, Ride on, Ride on, Ride on Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row Ride on, Ride on, Ride on, Ride on Growing up, I rowed some prop-less boats. While I rode on em, I wrote a lot of notes. I’m currently moving up like water flows and that’s how aluminum and solder floats. Carp’ll go for a ball of oats but I’d rather catch a man eater as Hall and Oates. A worn shark could break a stick like the logo on a San Jose starter coat. So, vamonos. Drop some bait off the coast then concentrate. I got domino’s luck with the (weight/wait). Fishing is (working out/working out) until they’re on a plate. If nothing’s happening, I’ll plan to spend time and cash with this kayak I’m cramming in. Leaving land again with a happy grin just to catch something. Grab my paddle then I Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row Ride on, Ride on, Ride on, Ride on Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row Ride on, Ride on, Ride on, Ride on Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row Ride on, Ride on, Ride on, Ride on Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row Ride on, Ride on, Ride on, Ride on I knew that a new canoe could be huge improvement to persue a school of a few species moving through a stream fluidly, considering that I used to use a tube. You’d see me moving from pool the pool ideally with a brew or two. I’m super glue teaming up with Maybelline, sticking lips while leaves are turning colors like a Rubiks cube. Cruising down a river, I’m trying not to tip but living gratuitous giving 100 of my percent is quite the opposite. A guide could get my line in line to net a trophy so big that I might just flip. Rolling with a solo crew. In the night, I travel nice because I’m light equipped. I strive to fight with a pike like guys before the invention of rifles did. I’ll start in Maine then I’ll make my way all the way south west to California, north to Washington then down to Florida, just to make a fish shape in a path recorder, while I’m casting more than an orthopedic doctor mixed with a sorcerer to take em out. It’s not take out when I say I’m gonna hustle to pick up an (order/Oar to) Row, Row, Row Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row Ride on, Ride on, Ride on, Ride on Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row Ride on, Ride on, Ride on, Ride on Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row Ride on, Ride on, Ride on, Ride on Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row, Row Ride on, Ride on, Ride on, Ride on

I’ve always wondered why I have a cluttered mind that keeps my tongue supplied. I strive to pull in yummy stuff to fine dine at supper time, then dunk it under brine for just a while. It’s such a grind to find and soak to smoke em combined with a love to rhyme. I got a bunch of lines. My mouth is like an open bail. You couldn’t see as many bars on (lock/loch) if you were thrown in jail. I want to catch a marlin cuz it’s larger than a sword or sail. Hopefully over scale with the weight and length of it from nose to tail. Who knows the tale of Moby Dick? An enormous whale that’s white. My goal is getting something close to it without destroying the ship. I was born to hit a lake or ocean with a pole equipped and put the stick to bigger coastal fish on that remora tip. Doing all of this to feel a fight seems silly. I’d reel in a killer orca then free Willy. I really need a motorboat with four 350s. That’s better than going “motorboat sound” between titties. Here fishy fishy. Checking off the list, I don’t kill the species that could feed me unless I’m planning on eating em. Here fishy fishy. It’s not a slaughter If I already got a freezer full of meat cuz I’m definitely releasing em. Here fishy fishy. My second home’s the water since It’s no sweat to get your toes wet and cast like a throne net. I’ve got so many more left I hope to catch before my own death. Not in the zone yet, collecting the whole set. It’s a struggle every day to resist calling the boss and simply say that I’m sick to pay a visit to the launch. Tossing a lure at any slab that I come across. I’ve even fished with a piece of paper clip and dental floss. One out of 10’s a loss. They throw a hook and they don’t get cooked. My life is an open book, grubbing on oven roasted snook. A trolling motor’s good for holding position over a nook on flowing rivers, watching the rod tip until I’m too old to look. As a senior citizen and a seasoned fisherman, I’ll be in the Pacific instead of icy conditions when the season is winter or where the scenery’s equivalent. I’m (seeing seas/CNCs) more than some machinery or Gilligan. I’ll be living near a bay seeking pray. Some times I completely slay while rhyming. Things are getting (reeled today/real today). On occasion they just keep away and appear to fear the bait. When they aren’t feeling great enough to feed, I’m hearing people say. Here fishy fishy. Checking off the list, I don’t kill the species that could feed me unless I’m planning on eating em. Here fishy fishy. It’s not a slaughter If I already got a freezer full of meat cuz I’m definitely releasing em. Here fishy fishy. My second home’s the water since It’s no sweat to get your toes wet and cast like a throne net. I’ve got so many more left I hope to catch before my own death. Not in the zone yet, collecting the whole set.

OK, check it out now. I’m loving to fish and been doing it since I was little man. Using a line’s always been the plan but In an airboat I’m a big fan pushing forward gigging while I’m sticking sardines in this tin can. It’s shark bait for Jamaica beach parties I partake in. Star gazing, I catch ‘em in the dark at an alarming rate. Rods are like my babies, I’m raising them in a proper way. Not homophobic at all by hoping that they all are straight. Got the perfect guides for (reeling/real and) It’s working fine. Through a stainless steel circle this monofilament glides. The tide be getting high but I’m prepared to wind up waist deep with no (waders/waiters) like these diners with hiring signs. Trying to get unlimited income, to fish cuz it’s fun. Got some sticks in the back of my whip for the quick hit and run. Call it a strip club because I’m using every single one. My favorite handle is the cork type and I want a grip of em. Give me a fishing pole. I’ll get the limit everywhere that I go. Give me a fishing pole. I’ll use it from the shore or on a boat Give me a fishing pole. No matter weather it’s hot or cold. Give me a fishing pole. It’s the present that is never getting old. Go ahead, ask any fisherman what’s the best thing to get for them. It’s either gear or outdoor sports store gift certificates. Stuff that helps you hold some lips between your thumbs and finger tips, anticipating the delicious crispiness of fish and chips. I can picture em getting coated in cornmeal. Jigging on the Detroit River by Grosse Ile. If my catch is rocking a gross eel it’s no deal but still I’m enthusiastic with more zest than an orange peel. What’s dope is every year I’m netting chrome or steel holding the nicest fly rods with a Colville reel. If my motor’s running, I’m most likely trolling and steering while using multiple poles having full control of wheel. I’m a lake boy saying ahoy, that means hi and I took a maiden voyage at a very young age, doi. I lock a pflueger on a Saint Croix as a play toy and take joy knowing the drag is going to make noise. Give me a fishing pole. I’ll get the limit everywhere that I go. Give me a fishing pole. I’ll use it from the shore or on a boat Give me a fishing pole. No matter weather it’s hot or cold. Give me a fishing pole. It’s the present that is never getting old. Give me a fishing pole. I’ll get the limit everywhere that I go. Give me a fishing pole. I’ll use it from the shore or on a boat Give me a fishing pole. No matter weather it’s hot or cold. Give me a fishing pole. It’s the present that is never getting old.

There’s plenty of old memories that I want deleted from my brain but I can’t change unless I get amnesia. There’s nothing like catching a brand new species for the first time so I wish I could forget they were captured and land each of em over and over. Wishing I was zoned out as a stoner with a loss of thoughts but I’m not as lucky as a 4 leaf clover to have some sort of selective disorder. I want to remember things but relive the enjoyment of reeling em closer. Every time I had a line snap and I couldn’t handle my drag right in a battle, my happiness was canceled. To add to that, I probably gambled with expensive tackle then I lost my mind but not the reminder of a bad but good example. I’ve had a heavy test braid break from tension. It’s even harder when you’ve seen a silhouette’s dimensions. I’m just trying to pick up teachers in the school without getting detention. This track is bringing back a mental wreckage of recollection. I used to want to earn first place and be a bass champion but then I learned some things that made me think about what happens when I take a big one from its nest, even though I put back again fast enough to defend its eggs from anything that’s scavenging. There’s conversation about conservation and how they’re taking these fishes out to weigh them during tournaments on a lake can add complications to their population. It’s not just making me want to change it but for God’s sakes it’s godforsaken! Before I knew I was basically erasing their spot, I put em in my live well and relocated them at my dock. It gets me sad wondering how much more I would’ve got. Now I’d rather let them flourish weather the bite is on or not. Me to a reel is like when Beethoven first heard a symphony. I’m a killer to worms or fish and I have a murderous history. Been green around the gills on occasion. Personal injuries have happened casting. My head is full of disturbing imagery. This one time I set my hook into a smallie and thought it was a carp based on its weight, so I cautiously kept the rod bent and started pulling it back calmly and got this slob close enough to where I saw it partially. This inland Michigan lake fish was beyond belief. A monster bass that resembled something feeding off a reef. Just then he darted deep in some aquatic weeds and I lost him. Ever since that he’s been haunting me in my darkest dreams. Not to mention, now it’s hard to sleep. I sit and think about the different types I’ve caught for meat and answer honestly the question, would I rather starve or eat? I slayed em with respect like Avatar, it’s not a heartless feat. I disregard my fear for now while we all can feast. Only scared of being killed by sharks and ripped apart from teeth. I’ve had my fill of nice fillets maybe that’s the reason that I got the feeling that someday I might succumb to karmas needs.

Most of you only know me as a rapping fisherman. This is just a little thing I put together chilling in my mixing room experimenting with a bunch of instruments and I’m itching to get a bit of lyricism to fit in the midst of it. Ever since I was six, I was gripping them lips and getting a ripped thumb. Live with the skill to throw under a dock. Got a lower pitch than a kick drum. Tossing on top of my victims. After a couple of skips then it comes to a halt pauses and sinks then all of them think yum. I’m coming in first at getting them on a stick like a skewer. I’m also number 2 at the same thing but nothing fewer. Until I’m pooped, I’m going to be alluring with a lure. Now (My newer/manure) crap is sicker than some doo doo in the sewer. Every trip, I reel in a few. Who am I kidding? I’m too ill like a pissed kid that was picked on by the way I’m killing a school. For real! and If you’re liking what you’re listening to, purchase my album. I’ll get me a pool. I wouldn’t swim in it. I would just put some fish in it to fish in it. Isn’t that cool? I’m not a looper or producer but I’ll do what I can do for all of you who listen to some music just to have a fun time fishing. I hope you fun time fishing. I’m not a looper or producer but I’ll do what I can do for all of you who listen to some music just to have a fun time fishing. I hope you have a lovely time. There’s no doubt, Old Trout won’t hold out. I stay bound for the gold while increasing my poem amount. My notepad is packed. I’m lacking a coin pouch but I’ll go about this outdoor life like a boy scout. Uh. Lately I’ve been casting in the Maumee river landing catfish or Tippy Dam for salmon pre-zombie. I don’t ever want to rap this choppy but I’m trying to copy wind and water when I’ve got the hardest flow with all 3. Golly, I’ll walk on 4 inch ice for bites in the snow. I’ve had to cancel trips because big gusts blow. Right now, it’s a little slow when I go flip. You know it isn’t cold enough to jig a hole! That pre winter low. Fa sho! It’s official. Even with a fish deficiency I’m still efficient getting em on artificials sufficiently. Quick to hit a fishery up to finish a fifty species list to be a fisherman who ends missions proficiently. I’m not a looper or producer but I’ll do what I can do for all of you who listen to some music just to have a fun time fishing. I hope you fun time fishing. I’m not a looper or producer but I’ll do what I can do for all of you who listen to some music just to have a fun time fishing. I hope you have a lovely time. I’m not a looper or producer but I’ll do what I can do for all of you who listen to some music just to have a fun time fishing. I hope you fun time fishing. I’m not a looper or producer but I’ll do what I can do for all of you who listen to some music just to have a fun time fishing. I hope you have a lovely time just fishing.

When I’m in need of fun, I’m reeling up some fish (wether/weather) it’s extremely freezing or my skin is peeling from a beaming sun. During a decent run, different species come and I’m keeping some. I won’t quit until I’m catching one of each of em. With a wrist that’s feeling numb, I still continue slaying. I stay pulling even after all my strength is taken but because of frustration I would feel if it’s escaping my grip, it’s like my arm creates it own way of regeneration. This is where my heart is at for as long as I last. I’ll probably pass from cardiac arrest caused by a shark attack. These monsters better watch their backs. I’m making a splash before the(clothes in/closing) like a broken leaky washer at a laundry mat. Someday I wanna go and get a tuna, blue fin. Got the smoothest lures I could use to confuse them. At 200 bucks a pound I’d be foolishly stupid not choosing to pursue and consume em. That’s my conclusion. I’m packing the tackle away. Pull out the blade and begin to fillet. It isn’t the end but you’ll just have to wait until the next time. Have a nice day! I nearly told you everything I need to say. Good luck on life and I hope you see the way. It isn’t the end but you’ll just have to wait until the next time. Have a nice day! This is the last verse of another track that’s mastered. This album serves double meaning words like bastard. I’ve questioned what to do with my life and begun to answer. I cast and adjust my drag. Watch as I land first. Wipe the floor with a giant for however long it takes as I ignore the time outdoors. So I can write some more. Set a hook into a dinosaur but not the kind to roar. Exercise my core then in the morning, feel kind of sore. By the shore I have a (fighting/fight in) store, like an oceanside weapon shop that carries knives and swords or supplies for wars. I don’t want to die from boredom. Adrenaline is my driving force. I’m teaching y’all how to be alive. It’s a survival course. It’s in my (genes/jeans) and I’m fine sporting 504s. If you’re only seeing minnows then you need to find the source. Sweet to be on fire but I’m not a s’more. Mellow as a marsh while I’m making more bucks than a wild horse. It takes a master to quickly unravel birds nests on a bait caster. Untangling a spinning reels is way faster. As a great angler, I travel from state to state and plan to get charters booked. Hook South is my latest chapter and Garzilla. No need for an arm twist. I’ll willingly go to Austin in August for the hottest pictures. Got the homies rolling along for the long distance. About to have so many fish on that we all get blisters. Hitting up the spots where you’re living and it rocks. If you don’t got a boat then we’ll get them from the docks. I’m visiting all of y’all listening to my LPs, disregarding the ticking of the clocks. I’m always trying to limit out or my rap name isn’t old trout. spending money it’s like I’m buying a gun with a single bullet because I get (a round/around), similar to pac. I’m no amateur when it comes to this rap and surely glad that you were here to hear tracks of the highest caliber. Now play it back as a lyricism examiner. Realize sometimes I’m getting deeper than the challenger. Cool with everybody, I’m my own anger manager. I don’t have any beef like an impossible hamburger. Haters are gonna hate, I can’t change their opinion. I’m friendly to the finish not just to people from Finland. I’m packing the tackle away. Pull out the blade and begin to fillet. It isn’t the end but you’ll just have to wait until the next time. Have a nice day! I nearly told you everything I need to say. Good luck on life and I hope you see the way. It isn’t the end but you’ll just have to wait until the next time. Have a nice day! I’m packing the tackle away. Pull out the blade and begin to fillet. It isn’t the end but you’ll just have to wait until the next time. Have a nice day! I nearly told you everything I need to say. Good luck on life and I hope you see the way. It isn’t the end but you’ll just have to wait until the next time. Have a nice day! (Storm) OK listen, My blood’s a little different. Not all European but Native American is in it. That’s enough for any racial argument to finish. I shouldn’t even have to explain the things that I’m mixed with. We’re equally human but I presume that a few men spread delusional views that influence some like the news can. Rather than using a noose to tie up a loose end, you should be trying to hang being introduced to a new friend. Treating everyone the same’s the code I live by. It’s implied, I feel much safer while staying inside. I’m inclined to think twice when I go out since I get the stink eye from racist guys at a fish fry. Our States are supposed to be United but there’s always fighting. This civil wars never ending as long as it’s incited. I’ve had enough of presidential bills and got some (sense/cents). My vote’s to be holding expensive (poles/polls) without the politics. Everybody has their own description of a bad individual, there should be no distinction. Instead of that, I’ve noticed how some parents told their children to hate based on a fellow citizens skin tone or pigment. Everybody has their own description of a bad individual, there should be no distinction. They’re judging people with a fictional conviction and have a bone to pick with me when I’m just going fishing. I don’t care if you’re Republican or Democrat, I tend to lend a hand without addressing that aggressive chat. When I have, it’s gotten me in trouble like a checkered past because I’ve learned if either one loses they can’t accept the fact. Yellow, black or white, if your cool with me then I’m cool with you. Just know I’ll never want to talk about another cuckoo coup. I hate a person who says they’re perfect but I assume you knew, a cocky dude’ll think he don’t stink as much as his doo doo do. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve met some good guys on a lake but some are cursed to think inside of a box and forever fake. I’m only trying to eat and they’re looking to take the cake. They’ve always had beef because their descendants made (a mistake/em a stake). Other than color, we have a lot in common. Every shade has somebody shady so skin is not the problem. Mahatma Gandhi said an eye for an eye just makes us blind and the future relies on the present and that’s when Godse shot him. Everybody has their description of a bad individual, there should be no distinction. Instead of that, I’ve noticed how some parents told their children to hate based on a fellow citizens skin tone or pigment. Everybody has their own description of a bad individual, there should be no distinction. They’re judging people with a fictional conviction and have a bone to pick with me when I’m just going fishing. At the boat launch, a couple folks watch as me and the homies are floating off, appearing to wonder if I could be holding them hostage. To show I’m harmless, I wave as they focus on us harder than a hit man who scoped his target and wants me choked unconscious. If you’re a fisherman then you’re part of my fish fam. Most of those brothers don’t really care if my skin’s tan. It’s dope (rapping/wrapping) around my buds like a zig zag. They’re fast to understand and get punches straight as a quick jab. I’m not a villain. A bigot will tell their kids that we differ so when they’re bigger there still is a flawed opinion. Somehow, I’m the outsider they want imprisoned. At least I’m indigenous to the continent that I live in! My flag is red, white and green with a snake and eagle. Ain’t illegal but this nation rapes and enslaves my people. Y’all are driving me crazy so now I’ll take the wheel and steer clear to the finish line while they’re thinking my race is evil. Everybody has their description of a bad individual, there should be no distinction. Instead of that, I’ve noticed how some parents told their children to hate based on a fellow citizens skin tone or pigment. Everybody has their own description of a bad individual, there should be no distinction. They’re judging people with a fictional conviction and have a bone to pick with me when I’m just going fishing.