Beyoncé met Michael Jackson when she was 15, he was 17. Both coming from strict religious backgrounds they had to hide their relationship and love for each other away from their parents and family.
With the abuse that Michael witnessed in his home...
I turn around and see a chair placed in the middle of the stage. I walk over as the music to 'drunk in love' comes on. I place myself on the seat with my stomach facing where your back is supposed to be against. I stick my butt out to make it more sexual and start singing. I look down at my engagement ring on my left hand remembering the 'proposing' just seconds before I entered the stage.
"I've been drinking, I've been drinking I get filthy when that liquor get into me I've been thinking, I've been thinking" I sing smiling as the crowd sing along with me. I hold my left hand up to the crowd to show off my ring, unintentionally. "Why can't I keep my fingers off you, baby? I want you, na na Why can't I keep my fingers off you, baby? I want you, na na" As I sing the chair starts to rotate on a small risen circle on stage, I rotate and hold onto the back of the chair as I bend over 'laying' down.
"Cigars on ice, cigars on ice" a beat of a remixed version booms in which I turn my head violently in beat with the music "Feeling like an animal with these cameras all in my grill," I hold my marriage hand in front of my face covering it "Flashing lights, flashing lights"
"You got me faded, faded, faded Baby, I want you, na na Can't keep your eyes off my fatty Daddy, I want you, na na Druuunkkkk in loveeee"
"We woke up in the kitchen saying "How the hell did this shit happen?" Oh baby Drunk in love we be all night Last thing I remember is our beautiful bodies grinding up in that club Drunk in love We be all night, love, love We be all night, love, love"
I sit properly on the chair spreading out my legs in a sexual manner.
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"We be all night, and everything alright No complaints for my body, so fluorescent under these lights, boy I'm drinking Walking in my l'assemblage I'm rubbin' on it, rub-rubbin' If you scared, call that reverend, boy I'm drinking Get my brain right Armand de Brignac, gangster wife Louis sheets, he sweat it out, like washrags, he wet it up , boy I'm drinking I'm singin' on the mic to my boy toys Then I fill the tub up halfway then riding with my surfboard Surfboard, surfboard Grainin' on that wood, grainin', grainin' on that wood I'm swerving on that, swerving, swerving on that Big body been servin' all this Swerve, surfin' all in this good-good"
