Lyrics:
breath cant breath tone tony brush the time
I keep my chain moon walking Michael Jackson time
I keep on buying ice like I lost my mind
This little light
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
you know but I'm actually Michael Jackson
The man I see in the mirror is actually goin' platinum
Unthinkable when I think of the way these niggas been
on the move (Move)
Michael Jackson, I’m a criminal
I’m feeling smooth
If you snooze you lose (Well), then you snooze you lose (Uh huh)
But I’m just getting
I feel so good
Yeah, let's go
We ain't rockin' no shell toes
Fly Giuseppes, got brimstones on my Velcro
Strapped, lookin' like Michael Jackson
soon as she think the cock Asian (caucasian)
I turn that white girl to a crack rock
Make her feind for it
Billie Jean for it
Michael Jackson, Janet
Lead like lord but see my foes
See no C-Note C4 lethal
Chase them Jackson's Michael Tito
Momma no praise no praise no evil
Momma no give no shit
Momma
gonna be my time
And I don't know why but I'm feeling
Slow like everything is moving slow motion
(Slow) slow motion
By myself it's quiet I feel I can
run off
i love living like a criminal
michael jackson
IMA SMOOTH
CRIM-INAL
and im bad
off these drugs
i go fucking mad
i b in my bag
i b
systems still rot
Still harassed by cops, snitches on blocks
Sellin they peoples out - some
Real folks with clout
Tavis Smiley, Michael Eric Dyson
Stokely
like Jackie Chan and lay low, like {?} Jack-son
Maxing and relaxing, haters, do they really want to test me man
I got an arsenal waiting, do they
dimenzi transcendentální věc
Jsem Michael Jackson, jsem Jimmy Hendrix
Jsem fakin Soulja Boy, jsem Juicy J, děvko, bitch
Mám space flow jsem ET jsem
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
this a risky buissiness
A No Limit Souldier
Commanderin' Cheif
An' Michael Jackson
Can't rock a muthafuckin' party like me
I'm bumpin' for the real
Wanted to be an artist i
Was of course inspired
By Debbie Harry and Chrissie
Hynde and Aretha Franklin
But my real muse was David
Bowie he embodied male
frith is tha man he be chillin like bob dylan and maxin like
michael and janet jackson....
ain't no body dope or sexy as him
he rhymes always get
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
young Quincy Jones, dark skin Michael Jackson
And these the motherfuckers that they packaged
Their new shit all be sounding like my past shit
Bring
and the power, they be in here watchin' Power
All my shooters accurate, codeine like a daiquiri
Run up, run up in your factory, mask is on like Michael Jackson
a
A young nigga as consistent
As you that has affected the world in
Such a positive way since, you know
Michael Jackson
And then, when you've finally got
role of a
Bitch, like Michael Jackson
" Wanna Be Startin' Somethin' "
Holla at my crew and they perish
Who do you cherish? Got that ass in my sight
they're trying to be my rivals while I'm trying to be Michael Jacksons
Nobody but me
Got myself if nobody got me
I didn't need your help I was overly
spiritual essence
And he goes by the name of, uh
Hood
Check your rhyme, punk that ass or get got, F it (shit)
I lick buckshots, Hood, madman, I rip up
on two-five
Or your big brother put you on like surprise
Hearing my hood described
So vivid you could see it by closing your eyes
Maybe it was the age
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