Michael Jackson Songtext
von Martin Lawrence

You know, I got to talk about Michael, too
Fuck it, you know, ain′t nothing changed
Shit, I love Michael, got to meet him
Michael, the baddest entertainer in the world

How many motherfuckers can say they jammin' in Bucharest?
How many motherfuckers can say that?
You know I′m jammin' in Bucharest next week, right?
Michael got Iranians like that

You's a bad motherfucker when you got them motherfuckers jumpin′
Because all they want to do is blow up shit
Niggas have bombs on their back like this
If you ain′t good, we blowin' it up

Go on, motherfucker, no, I think Michael′s a mack, man
I think he pimpin' Brooke, I think once the camera′s off
Michael's like this, look, bitch, don′t play with me
Make me a motherfuckin' sandwich


Beat it, make me a goddamn sandwich
Don't fuck around, Brooke, got a little of my father in me now
Don′t fuck around, man, no, and then Liz Taylor
Gonna bring her ass out

Remember on the interview, Liz come tell her
I want to say a few words about Michael
I want a bitch, no you don′t, Liz
What? We talkin' to Michael

And you notice Liz was sittin′ down
Telling Oprah stories about Michael
And Michael was in the back with Liz like this, rockin'
Remember when he was rockin′, he was listenin' his ass off

Like, bitch, don′t you tell Oprah no shit I don't want her to know
You shouldn't have been out this motherfucker, girl
And you know what fucked me up?
Michael wanted to meet me, though

That′s fucked me up, Michael Jackson, man
Wanted to meet me, I said, damn, it was a trip
Because his security came and got me, you know
And his security tried, you know how motherfuckers do their job too, you know


Just overdo the shit, security act like it was some big CIA shit
You know, gonna walk up to me and shit, uh, excuse me, Martin
Yeah, well, look here, uh, Michael wanna meet you
Michael who, motherfucker?

Michael from Good Times? Michael who?
Motherfucker talkin′ about Michael
Michael who, motherfucker? He talkin' about Michael
And I was like, oh shit

Michael, wanna meet me? Now I thought when I meet Michael Jackson
I would walk in there and just stay myself
Be myself, you know, walk in like the man I am
You know, just walk in, yo, what′s up, Mike?

Pleasure to meet you, you know, just doin' my thing, you know
Fuckin′ with the white people, oops, no offence, Mike
Didn't mean to go down, y′all, but it was different
'Cause I walked in, and I felt like a little bitch

And once again, the shit just came out
I went in doin' medleys and shit of Michael′s songs
How you doin′, Michael, how you doin'?
Been the two of us, we love no more

I′ll be there, dancin', dancin′, dancin'
But what fucked me up was, Michael shook my hand, and he jumped back
Motherfucker said, ah, ah, ah
What the fuck you jumpin′ for, man?

You asked to meet me, Michael, I didn't ask to meet you
And Miss Jackson was sittin' in the corner, and I ain′t see her
I said, hey, how you doin′, Miss Jackson?
And she jumped up, Joe, stop beatin' the kids

Joe, stop beatin′ the kids, and I had to calm her down
No, Miss Jackson, no, I was explainin' to Michael
I love it and beat it, nah, he didn′t say nothin' about beatin′ the kids
Everything, I'm Martin

Yeah, beat it, the music, his song
No, I'm not the one who hit Latoya with the chair
Miss Jackson, calm down, I did not hit Latoya
Well, shit, you said the bitch was psychic
She should′ve known the chair was comin′