Lyrics:
that got me mad (please, Mr. Rapper, once again)
That's the shit that got me mad
That's the shit, you know what I'm sayin'? (It's a family oriented
think of Michael (Jackson)
Look at my wrist think of Michael (Phelps)
I check my wallet then I think of Michael (Jordan)
She just give me top think she
Where's Mr. Voorhees, sir Freddy Krueger
Fuck Michael Myers, bitch on the bed begging me to do her
And that's how it goes, cuz my life is radical
Yeah listen to the cut!
It's our style!
[Mr. Funke] Our style?
[DoItAll] Your style
[Mr. Funke] Stop brother
[DoItAll] Aiyyo nigga wake up, "let me
How I was born
Not how we living
For cops I'm easy Pickens
So please tell M.E. again how many
How many
How many
Eric Garner-John Crawford III-Michael
Jones! This songs for you.
This songs for you.
Let me tell you about a guy I know Mr. Jones
(DICK JOHNSON!)
For a pair of balls he's got a set of stones.
I got a mortgage and my kids in a forest by the bridge
And I drives a Rolls Royce in a porridge with dem grills
So you understand I was tryna pay me
with a supersonic microphone
But my name isn't Michael Jones I'm more like Mike Myers
With a machete and a mask as I'm walking through the fire
I'm tired
sittin' there
And seven times he's asked me for a date
And Mrs. Taylor sure seems to use a lotta ice
Whenever he's away
And Mr. Baker, can you tell us
sittin' there
And seven times he's asked me for a date
And Mrs. Taylor sure seems to use a lotta ice
Whenever he's away
And Mr. Baker can you tell us
I'm not sure
Does anybody make trill shit anymore
All up in club surrounded by Michael Kors
Like do bitches even have real tits anymore
Bow 'till your
sittin' there
And seven times he's asked me for a date
And Mrs. Taylor sure seems to use a lotta ice
Whenever he's away
And Mr. Baker, can you tell us
Crawford
Keith Childress
LaMontez Jones
Michael Brown
Nathaniel Pickett
Paul Oneal
Pamela Turner
Quintonio Legrier
Rumain Brisbon
Sandra Bland
Terrier Thomas
dawg with me don’t get BIT
Can’t stop can’t pause can’t QUIT/ So cold n****s think I’m SICK!
(oddo verse):
There go the Mt. Man/ Mr he gon get paid
Yeah they call me Michael Mol
I'm a doctor but I do my own
Yeah they call me Michael Mol
I'm a doctor but I do my own
Yeah im the black Michael
have to funk wit' me
But you did, now I'm going all out, kid
And I got mad love to give
You're all
I need
To get by
(W-w-wild, I'm about to blow)
of a master
You never thought you'd be bodied by a bastard
A bachelor who backspin on breakbeats
Break necks of broke souls who hate me
Hate he? you can't
Taylor sittin' there, and seven times he's asked me for a date.
And Mrs. Taylor sure seems to use a lotta ice, whenever he's away.
And Mr. Baker can you
and seven times he's asked me for a date
Mrs. Taylor sure seems to use a lot of ice whenever he's away
And Mr. Baker, can you tell us why your secretary had
Bland)
Say their names
(Michael Sabbie)
Say their names
(Christian Taylor)
Say their names
(Troy Robinson)
Say their names
(Lamontez Jones)
Say their names
I need (I swear to God I hope we fuckin' die together)
To get by
Shorty I'm there for you anytime you need me
For real girl, it's me in your
I need (I swear to God I hope we fuckin' die together)
To get by
Shorty I'm there for you anytime you need me
For real girl, it's me in your
There we go with a sign of a smile
Slap in the goonies, we're lost for a while
Where'd you go my breakfast club girl?
Will you stand by me in a stand by
sittin' there
And seven times he's asked me for a date
And Mrs. Taylor sure seems to use a lotta ice
Whenever he's away"
"And Mr. Baker, can you tell
_Album_Cover.jpg/220px-Mrs._Mills_(All_Time_Party_Dances)_Album_Cover.jpg "Mrs. Mills")
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