Making Love to Morgan Wallen
Damn, I miss you Chester
Sending love from a bass compressor (Love You)
Ground control with a soul like Bowie
And I'll chop you up if I'm under pressure
I don't really wanna brag
I'm just tellin' mothafuckers that I'm leavin' with a bag
High-five to the scarred and the strange
From the outlaw that'll never get tamed (Woo)
Bizkit beats from the pirate band
Signed this deal with a lobster hand
Freestyle like a bowling pin
Flex these bars on a dolphin fin
Life's too short, but I can't complain
Doin' backflips on a candy cane
Ride my scooter with a cape at night
And I'ma high-five me a trafic light (Whoop, whoop)
I blink twice then I teleport
Got kicked out of the Trump Resort (What)
Bought this cloud on a payment plan
Then I ghosted out in a minivan
Mic in my hand like a waffle cone
Spittin' out syrup in the Twilight Zone
Got no job, but I'm on the clock
And you can't stop me cause this shit don't stop
Hey, ladies
Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh
When you're hot, you're hot (Yeah)
When you're not, you're not (Nope)
Hey, fellas
Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh
When you're hot, you're hot (Yeah)
When you're not, you're not
Bitch, you know I'm hot
How many licks till the pepper gon' pop
Told my cap it's the CEO
Then I moonwalked in a UFO
Mic'd my shoes with a Christmas wreath
Droppin' these bars while I brush my teeth
Flippin this verse like a boomerang
Landed on stage in your pootie tang
Backpack filled with a new disease
Tell 'em I downed something hard to please
We don't care, we bounce on clouds
Sing off-key, and we still too loud
Bizkit drops, the place explodes
Jumpin' through life in my pantyhose
Still no job, but I'm on the clock
And you can't stop me cause this shit don't stop
Hey, ladies
Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh
When you're hot, you're hot (Yeah)
When you're not, you're not (Nope)
Hey, fellas
Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh
When you're hot, you're hot (Yeah)
When you're not, you're not
I see through your act
And I still enjoy the show
Yeah
No dance, no chance
No dance, no chance
No chance
No jokes, no goats
No toast, no ghosts
No goats
No dance, no dance
No dance, no dance
No dance
Whoa
Too bad
Too bad, gotta deal with the bitches
Some of y'all too big for your britches
How's about a high-five for the good girls and the good guys, c'mon
Too bad, gotta deal with the bitches
Some of y'all too big for your britches
How's about a high-five for the good girls and the good guys
You know who you are
Turn it up
I make this motherfucker diamond plated
Makin' love to Morgan Wallen in an elevator
I'll be turnin' on you bitches like a generator
I'll be the greatest motherfucker that you ever hated
That you ever hated
compositores: Fred Durst - John Otto - Sam Rivers - Leor Dimant - Wes Borland - Joel Eriksson
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