by Mikey Maybe

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(free) 03:34


Chips+Pop was created using LSDJ and Korg DS-10. It was written, produced, and recorded by Mike Hamm. Artwork by Mike Hamm, pop bottle inspired by commander keen 4.


released April 28, 2010

Thanks to Caroline, Joe, Chantel, Thomas, and Dave Banks.



Some rights reserved. Please refer to individual track pages for license info.


Mikey Maybe Edmonton

I'm an Old Ugly songwriter making pop rap in Edmonton.

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Track Name: Plastic Bags
[Squeeling sound] One time!
With Cadilac flash eyes full of sunshine,
like QUING! sipping on my rummy mudslide
85 Nike courts, laces untied
I'm the killer some call me Drunkdrive
WHOA, Kowabunga smash a Hyundai
nimb-le-est lips and I'm never tongue-tied
dance on my grave and you slip on punchlines
so THUG LIFE (RIP 'PAC) watch me make a slug fly
slimy little hollow-point land in some guy
like UGHHHH my skills never run dry
I can do a cartwheel, but only one time!

Like, pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa SLICE
I'm in my Chrys' looking nice, rolling twenties rolling dice
Like pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa OUCH
I'm on the couch, lying slouched, eating pizza filling in a pouch
So pull out your papes!
I got the boots, got the cape, got the lipstick (KISS) on my nape.
And well, well, well, well, your on the bus looking swell,
bumping the bass out of your cell.

Oooooohhh... Okey
dokey, you can quote me but don't please
it's inaproprey, I'm Mikey Mostly
I'm down doing opies with my roadies [UT OH!]
I'm cutting edge, they're still cutting oldies
I'm cutting heads, uhhh call the po-lice
Get me a lamborghine drop it low, please
Your systems so-so and mine is so-ny!
Holy smokes I can't feel my toesies
when I look at pics of Angelina Jolie's
shouldies. Hear my heart beat in Dolby,
SHE COULD BE YOUR MOTHER! Yay, she could hold me.

I'm eating kit kats while I kick cats and kick back
recline and spit that vernacular magic
I apologize for my smallish eyes
let my coderize your bullet wounds and slap on a bandage
Don't trip on me, pretty me, lookit little me,
and then trip into a vat of acid
I shaved off my dreads and I paid off my debts,
there's a bag on your head and your mad that it's plastic.
Track Name: Grade 6
Major Stryer, Hugo 3, Operation Inner Space, and Quest for Glory X2

I'll bring it back, Daddy. x 4
I'll bring it back, Daddy x4

In grade six, me and dave saw the world in VGA
saw the world in pixelated power-ups and heated rays
8 BIT shareware, never bought a freakin' game
faces to the moniter until we couldn't see the same

SAVE THIS, save up, rent a super NES
TAKE THIS eight bucks in bottles not a penny less
EIGHT it's off to school, pause the game and let it rest
Day dream through every class and still killing every test.

ACED IT. We're crunching numbers in the basement.
Flip over the Odyssey that's playing in the tape deck.
Way before the iPods, we were fighting cyclops.
Rub and squint the mind's eye until it needed eyedrops.

That stuff got inside of my core, I'm still digging in the sandbox. Dice in my drawer, white nikes on my floor,
a restart-sweetheart looking for a keycard.

I'm still looking for that keycard....
Track Name: Sashimi
Called my girl up on the Oh...
My EX up on the phone.
Yah, we broke up months ago
We still hang out it's not weird

It's kinda weird.
I still talk like her sometimes.
She's got hairpins at my house.
Who's that guy she likes now??

Oh no. I don't know what to do.
She's The One
(that I kinda wanna be with
but we always seem to fight

all the time.
She's the hummus in my eye
I'm the chutney on her shirt
She's sashimi and I tried.

I tried.
She's like chocolate, I'm a dog.
I tried.
She's from venus, I'm from here.
I tried.
She's sashimi and I tried.

I'm feeling fine. (Oh?)
Just kinda blah (Oh.)
I've blogged until that guy who reads my blog stopped.

I'm feeling fine (Oh?)
Just really sad (Oh.)
I called my mom. She says she loves me. Thanks, mom.

I don't go out. (Oh?)
It's getting bad. (Oh.)
I wear a sweatsuit all around the house. Fun.

I'm feeling fine. (Oh?)
Yah I'm doing fine. (Oh.)
I'm single I should just enjoy being single.

[sounds of crying]

I have lots of prospects.

[more crying]
Track Name: Chips+Pop
My style is:
A cadilac-black DS, with a lilac-purple stylus
Like diamonds, my eyes fixed on my wireless
circuit-bent, glitched-up, you can't buy this.

My 8 bits get makeshift payslips,
greatness scribbled in my margins
My lungs lined with sunshine, blowing in a cartridge
My blood type ain't right, sick of all these starches.

You've been to my appartment. Had to see
that I've got more chips+pop than Commander Keen.
Think my grass is green, like some plasticine?
Don't ever scratch my screen because the glass is clean.

I know this game like the back of my speakers.
I plug 'em in blind while I'm packing those bleachers
Nose-bleeders. Mikey just sold t-shirts.
Brand new drivers. Brand old sneakers.

A slip stream, pit fiend, vigilante.
With those crisp, clean, ripped jeans in the laundry.
I got drum pads, dumb cats, sticky notes, thumb tacks,
and gear in my bedroom drippin' like a gun rack.

It's drippin', It's drippin'.....