Lyrics:
Feelin' like Michael Jackson, tell em' beat it Feelin' like Michael Jackson, tell em' beat it
Feelin' like Michael Jackson, tell em' beat it
Feelin'
Michael Jackson in Disneyland
Don't have to share it with nobody else
Lock the gates, Goofy, take my hand
And lead me through the world of self
Splendid
need it now, I need it
Swear to god, oh god I need it now
Michael Jackson, Jackson, beat it now
Oh my god, I'm terrified
I'm fire nigga got that purp'
If Michael Jackson came alive right now
He'd ask you to smoke one for him
So in his honor
You niggas Spud Webb, coming up short
Think you're Dee
in the club tryin to duck us (WHAT?)
And if you walk by nigga, I'ma knock fire nigga
from yo' ass, you can come try nigga (HEY!)
In the hood, all
I’ve been stuck in traffic longer than I’ve been at home I collect the funds now
Michael Jackson how I keep these niggas on their toes
This is
make a ho get sentimental
I got ADIKA denim, ballin' with no fundamentals
Michael Jackson off the Thriller dose, hold it from the killer dose
Cookin'
have to be on
Four Seasons with the heaters
He pull in the valet, he playin' Jackson 5 Maria
Pourin' good burgundy, drinkin' wine by the liter
bitch to a thriller
Like my name was Michael Jackson (hee, hee)
Yeah, yeah, Glock in my lap in traffic
Roll down the window, you know that I'm
Dancing
Like I'm James Brown or Michael Jackson
You came in set off a chain reaction
I can't control my two feet
You sure know how to move me
passin' out bruises,
lacerations and broken jawses
Emcees want to floss you better understand who's the boss
before I do a Michael Jackson and "Cut your
they're asking me for more
I give it to them non stop
Hey non stop
Africa Michael Jackson-Jackson
Ma tun bayin fi Jara si - Jara si
My gbédu too classy
Division and NOFX (what?)
Let's dissect this album called “Nevermind”
Produced by Butch Vig of Garbage not Sublime
Butch toured with U2, who wrote a song
up, say what happened? (What happened?)
Gold buttons on my jacket, yeah
I feel like I'm Michael Jackson (yeah)
Moment of clarity, I'm straight off
the Yellow Pages under smooth shit
'Cause Red ain't down for the bullshit
Niggas fucked up by letting me make an album
(How come, rude boy?)
To get
Michael Jackson bad
Criminal
Yeah she's a criminal
Ooo oh oh oh oh
When the clock strikes twelve
She comes out to play
You don't see it coming
When she's
David Bowie fucked kids
Jimmy Page fucked kids
Michael Jackson fucked kids
Bill Wyman fucked kids
I can't even fuck my wife
But I get fucked by life
to the store 10 years ago
And damn he still ain't back yet, bastard
Clown on your home life, not sorry
I stay by my V-LONE like Bari
I want her, I bag her
This
promo
Jessica Simpson that's so, so
Nick Warner's baby back, with that slow so
Devil white 5-0, they catch me at the pro bowl
On the field diamonds
stuffin and like Michael Jackson
They always be startin somethin'
We bring da pain
With the muthafuckin' choppers in hand
504, Cash Money, droppin' niggas
Lil Jon with the beat (jeah!) and now them hoes want to call ya
I ain't Michael Jackson the P won't quit
I'd rather be judged by 12 than carried by 6
yeah, that just how I'm designed
We talk about the struggle, Michael Jackson in his prime
Even put 'em on a scale, 'til I seen that 9-9
Thug
the shots, I feel like Phil Jackson
Steady trappin'
Yeah, police by my spot and I was still trappin'
Yeah, hop in the Benz
I put a F on the rim (rim)
16th Chamber, temple number five
Somebody said it's on
If it is then I'll be set
To blow a nigga up
With my Five Fingers of Death
I bring it
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