Michael Jordan lyrics

[Intro: Alori Joh]
I used to wanna be like Michael Jordan
Figured I would hit the NBA and make me a fortune

[Chorus: Kendrick Lamar]
Ugh, every time I’m in my city, I be acting like my sh*t don’t stink
Used to clean my Rolie chain with alcohol in the sink
Riding around with n*ggas that I grew up with since McNair
Bumpin' "Me Against the World"—hello, world, Kendrick here
And I’m too much for these n*ggas, I’m three much for these hoes
I’m too much for these n*ggas, I’m three much for these hoes
I’m too much for these n*ggas, I’m three much for these hoes
Wayne told me that, and that's just how it goes

[Break: Kendrick Lamar]
Michael Jordan
Bounce-bounce, ho
Bounce-bounce

[Verse 1: Kendrick Lamar]
This sh*t make a n*gga wanna get some bread or bust a head
Or f*ck my enemy's b*tch, acting bad and getting rich
Pull up on them twenty-sixes, I’m a vanity slave
I’m a sinner, Jesus Christ, please forgive me for my ways
I don’t know why your b*tch want to f*ck me
And I don’t know why you f*ck n*ggas can’t see
I’m a Comp-town representer, a concrete back-flipper
A.K.A "that n*gga," don't wuwwy!
I don’t know why your b*tch want to f*ck me
And I don’t know why you f*ck n*ggas can’t see
This is HiiiPower, since the Eddie Bauer, I been popular
I’m popping now, every other hour, paparazzi come
You jocking her, let her be a ho, why you stopping, though?
We stopping the traffic, what you know 'bout them hockey pucks?
Skating on 'em, why you hating on 'em? You should learn from 'em
Seen too many of y’all getting money, know my turn coming
I don’t know why your b*tch wanna f*ck me
I don’t know why (Hey, wait a minute, motherf*cker)
[Chorus: Kendrick Lamar]
Every time I’m in my city, I be feeling like my sh*t don’t stink
Used to clean my Rollie chain with alcohol in the sink
Ridin' 'round with n*ggas that I grew up with since McNair
Bumpin' "Me Against the World"—hello, world, Kendrick here
And I’m too much for these n*ggas, I’m three much for these hoes
I’m too much for these n*ggas, I’m three much for these hoes
I’m too much for these n*ggas, I’m three much for these hoes
Wayne told me that, and that's just how it goes
Michael Jordan, b*tch, Michael Jordan, b*tch
Michael Jordan, b*tch, Michael Jordan, b*tch
That means I’m too much for these n*ggas, I’m three much for these hoes
Wayne told me that, and that's just how it goes

[Verse 2: Kendrick Lamar]
Man, the game chose me, what am I to do?
The only thing I did wrong was make it possible
I diddy bop and make them titties pop
Out there on my bumper like a city cop
Walking out the Fred Segal, put my girl on it
Ass so fat, probably sit the world on it (Aye)
pus*y crazy, pus*y crazy
You f*ck n*ggas, you pussies crazy
Man, I know I can’t tell you about the world, homie
But I know I can tell you about your girl, homie
Her pus*y crazy, her pus*y crazy
I f*cked, n*gga—I know you hate me
I know they pay me too much of attention
Bring my name up, it gotta be mentioned
I need me an engine that go real fast
Call it "hall of fame" once it haul ass
Give me tall glass, Coconut Cîroc
Please, no soda pop, I make my solo pop
Life’s a b*tch, her pus*y crazy
But I make that pus*y pay me
[Chorus: Kendrick Lamar]
Every time I’m in my city, I be feeling like my sh*t don’t stink
Used to clean my Rolie chain with alcohol in the sink
Riding around with n*ggas that I grew up with since McNair
Bumpin' "Me Against the World"—hello, world, Kendrick here
And I’m too much for these n*ggas, I’m three much for these hoes
I’m too much for these n*ggas, I’m three much for these hoes
I’m too much for these n*ggas, I’m three much for these hoes
Wayne told me that, and that's just how it goes
Michael Jordan, b*tch, Michael Jordan, b*tch
Michael Jordan, b*tch, Michael Jordan, b*tch
That means I’m too much for these n*ggas, I’m three much for these hoes
Wayne told me that—

[Verse 3: Schoolboy Q]
I remember tripping, walking through the set, like, "My Glock don’t think"
Grandma in the kitchen, neck bones in the sink
I don’t know why your b*tch want to f*ck me
And I don’t know why you sucker n*ggas can’t see
I’m from Hoover, man, high as Superman—sh*t, you Lois Lane
You pus*y, man; with the pus*y game, sh*t, we off the chain
We popping man, fortune, not the fame; sh*t, you backwards, man
You chasing hoes, we replacing those—bag and pass them hoes
Your broad done chose, guess she moving on, yep, we do it wrong
We f*cked her, homes, f*cked and sent her home, marijuana strong
You know I’m gon' turn my swagger on, am I swagged enough?
My paper long, yep, you left alone, y-y-you gets no f*cks
Leaning off the Actavis, passing blunts round and round
Told me Mary was a go, so we passed her 'round and 'round
Your b*tch texted me, wants it now, so I had to knock her down
Hurt her, bouncing off my balls, slinging di*k up from the mouth
You let it slide, I hit home runs, clean her dugout 'til I’m done
I can be her number two, and you can be her number one
Her pus*y crazy, her pus*y crazy
You f*ck n*ggas!
[Chorus: Kendrick Lamar]
Every time I’m in my city, I be feeling like my sh*t don’t stink
Used to clean my Rolie chain with alcohol in the sink
Riding around with n*ggas that I grew up with since McNair
Bumpin' "Me Against the World"—hello, world, Kendrick here
And I’m too much for these n*ggas, I’m three much for these hoes
I’m too much for these n*ggas, I’m three much for these hoes
I’m too much for these n*ggas, I’m three much for these hoes
Wayne told me that, and that's just how it goes
Michael Jordan, b*tch, Michael Jordan, b*tch
Michael Jordan, b*tch, Michael Jordan, b*tch
That means I’m too much for these n*ggas, I’m three much for these hoes
Wayne told me that, and that's just how it goes