Sam King - Michael JORTSan lyrics

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Sam King - Michael JORTSan lyrics

[Verse 1: Jakob Owens] Rap game's Michael Jordan I always ball in Jorts son Space Jam and we monsters So put us on your roster Breaking ankles like the big "O" Call me mister Oskar, JOP gonna win an Oscar Steal your cookies like a robber f** the Timberwolves we the team of the real wolves Ho My mustache has magical powers Wolf Tits you'll jam for hours JOP and Dave Capp we're Raver wolves and now we rap I named my dick Pistol Pete cause he busts quick, and my Johnson's Magic White boy John Stockton I'm balling in some moccasins Got the [?] so I'm ballin' like Kareem there ain't no stopping him Dribble dribble now bounce pa** I'm dropping dimes like Steve Nash Wait David, Uh, hold up I found a dime! [Verse 2: Dave Cappa] Catch me in some J's Shooting fade-away's Faded from the J Hoes call me Timmy Hardaway I'm like 5'1" [???] [? ? ? ? ?] Stupid short I'm big headed NBA jam Slam dunk your b**h, break her backboard Now shes team Wolf Tits Pa** her off to JOP Now we call that an a**ist J is hella proper, 1080 christ air looking like a helicopter [? ? ? ? ?] JOP Drop 203, first player on 2k3 Got signed by NYC, Made a mil' before twenty three As for me I'm Oklahoma City's favorite baller So I pull up in my 64 Impala [Hook] Michael Jortsan [x3] Michael Michael Jortsan (b**h) Michael Jortsan [x3] Michael Michael Jortsan (b**h) Michael (b**h)[x4] Michael Micheal Jortsan b**h! (Blaow) Crank that Wolf Tits, Crank that Wolf Tits, Crank that Wolf Tits Crank that, Crank that Wolf Tits [x2] [Verse 3: SK4MC] Halftime getting head under the bleachers (from your girl) What the f** I got a white stain on my Raptors When I step out getting love like Faizon They don't know I rap, they just see my J's on Paychecks in my closet, shout-out unemployment If I was ever homeless, my feet would still enjoy it I ball like I'm Jordan I look like I'm Marlin Your girl got her hands in my pants and she balling My crossover is heavy, so if you're not ready, your ankles get broken like New Orleans levees, that's heavy [Verse 4: KYLE] Its Ty Jeffers Schooling mother F'ers Shooting with my eyes closed, I do it with no effort Hotter than a pepper Doing suicides in a hundred degree weather Wearing 47 sweaters (AGGHHHHH) I'm Hot From the half court line yelling shots You wanna know how you spell Team? T-Y- Jeffers (b**h) [Hook] (Wolves Howling)