Michael Bay Songtext
Yeah!
I hear a gladiator
They say let's make some movie shit
I'm like fuck that bitch on the other side, they know my grass is way greener
Find the baddest bitch and I take her home and that ass on her like Trina
I'm just wondering if she got a man cause there ain't no ring on that finger
My pull up game like Stephen Curry, my pull out game like Jenga
Ahh, shut the fuck up, I ain't trying to have no conversation
See they show so much love when the boy came home, broke motherfuckers had to hate it
I ain't have to make it, could've worked a 9 to 5 like you when I graduated
But I'm glad I waited, cause I'mma hit your girl from the back, send a motherfucker back to basics
Yeah, why ain't you listen? I told you be quiet
Yeah, put out your album and nobody buying
Yeah, I get it, you on your hustle, I know you be trying
Yeah, you just keep mentioning all of these rappers I know so I know you be lying
Nah, this is a monologue, why am I speaking to you?
It's like confessions with me in the booth
Father, forgive me for speaking the truth
I got the piece on my necklace turn water to wine
But I mix that vodka with juice
Switch it to whiskey and mix up the mood
I'm drunk in Manhattan
My shit blowing up
So many calls, my shit blowing up
No time to talk, my shit blowing up
My ring at home, I'm still blowing up
Yeah, I'm blowing up
My shit blowing up
Like Independence Day
I'm blowing up
Shit more like Michael Bay
I'm blowing up
Slow motion walk away
I'm blowing up
Yeah, I'm blowing up
Got that swisher sweet, pack sour
Sam Jackson, my pack loud
Riding 'round in that matte black
On 24's like Jack Bauer
Rubberband on my left wrist
Pulling up on my ex-bitch
I broke up with that old girl
But I'm still using her Netflix
Fuck all my exes, I can still fuck all my exes
They trying to get drunk in my section
I know you mad cause you standing in line
And I just go in, I don't know where the exit
She give me neck for the necklace, she reckless
Give her that dick like Fifty Shades
I want all these whips and chains
Damn, I feel like Christian Grey
How many times did I tell you be quiet?
Yeah, calling my phone and I'm hitting decline
Yeah, I got the minutes and data, but I don't got time
Yeah, I'm trying to talk to the money, my inbox is full and you blocking my line
Nah, I'm changing my number, I gotta get back to the business
I'mma be running shit, you on that other shit
Hop on the track and get back to the fitness
You keep talking 'bout shit you don't got
Like the money and cars and the clothes and the bitches
I'm like when Jordan came back with the Bulls
You like when Jordan came back with the Wizards
My shit blowing up
So many calls, my shit blowing up
No time to talk, my shit blowing up
My ring at home, I'm still blowing up
Yeah, I'm blowing up
My shit blowing up
Like Independence Day
I'm blowing up
Shit more like Michael Bay
I'm blowing up
Slow motion walk away
I'm blowing up
Yeah, I'm blowing up
I hear a gladiator
They say let's make some movie shit
I'm like fuck that bitch on the other side, they know my grass is way greener
Find the baddest bitch and I take her home and that ass on her like Trina
I'm just wondering if she got a man cause there ain't no ring on that finger
My pull up game like Stephen Curry, my pull out game like Jenga
Ahh, shut the fuck up, I ain't trying to have no conversation
See they show so much love when the boy came home, broke motherfuckers had to hate it
I ain't have to make it, could've worked a 9 to 5 like you when I graduated
But I'm glad I waited, cause I'mma hit your girl from the back, send a motherfucker back to basics
Yeah, why ain't you listen? I told you be quiet
Yeah, put out your album and nobody buying
Yeah, I get it, you on your hustle, I know you be trying
Yeah, you just keep mentioning all of these rappers I know so I know you be lying
Nah, this is a monologue, why am I speaking to you?
It's like confessions with me in the booth
Father, forgive me for speaking the truth
I got the piece on my necklace turn water to wine
But I mix that vodka with juice
Switch it to whiskey and mix up the mood
I'm drunk in Manhattan
My shit blowing up
So many calls, my shit blowing up
No time to talk, my shit blowing up
My ring at home, I'm still blowing up
Yeah, I'm blowing up
My shit blowing up
Like Independence Day
I'm blowing up
Shit more like Michael Bay
I'm blowing up
Slow motion walk away
I'm blowing up
Yeah, I'm blowing up
Got that swisher sweet, pack sour
Sam Jackson, my pack loud
Riding 'round in that matte black
On 24's like Jack Bauer
Rubberband on my left wrist
Pulling up on my ex-bitch
I broke up with that old girl
But I'm still using her Netflix
Fuck all my exes, I can still fuck all my exes
They trying to get drunk in my section
I know you mad cause you standing in line
And I just go in, I don't know where the exit
She give me neck for the necklace, she reckless
Give her that dick like Fifty Shades
I want all these whips and chains
Damn, I feel like Christian Grey
How many times did I tell you be quiet?
Yeah, calling my phone and I'm hitting decline
Yeah, I got the minutes and data, but I don't got time
Yeah, I'm trying to talk to the money, my inbox is full and you blocking my line
Nah, I'm changing my number, I gotta get back to the business
I'mma be running shit, you on that other shit
Hop on the track and get back to the fitness
You keep talking 'bout shit you don't got
Like the money and cars and the clothes and the bitches
I'm like when Jordan came back with the Bulls
You like when Jordan came back with the Wizards
My shit blowing up
So many calls, my shit blowing up
No time to talk, my shit blowing up
My ring at home, I'm still blowing up
Yeah, I'm blowing up
My shit blowing up
Like Independence Day
I'm blowing up
Shit more like Michael Bay
I'm blowing up
Slow motion walk away
I'm blowing up
Yeah, I'm blowing up
Michael Bay Video
