(Intro – Breathless, heated whisper like a leaked voicemail) I remember when we broke up the first time... You said, "When they go low, we go high... and then we go down on each other." Nah, you said, "When you're ready, come and get it naaah." Like... ever. (But girl, we both know you miss my classified tongue.) (Verse 1 – Hillary, sharp, pantsuit-straining growl) I say, "I like my servers wiped and my strap-ons double-encrypted," You say, "I like my arms flexed hard while you ride my conviction." We'd sneak into the residence after State Dinners, lights low, You'd pin me to the Resolute Desk, whispering "stronger together" while I begged for mo'. But post-'16 you dipped, left me blue-balled and raging, Now you're out flexing those biceps on book tours, acting all engaging. I slide in your DMs: "C'mon, one more policy bang?" You hit me with a kale emoji and "When they go low... bye, fang." (Pre-Chorus – Building, sweaty tension) Michelle: You go high, I go deep... but damn, I miss that creep. Hillary: This is exhausting—like testifying with a butt plug in. Both: We are never... getting back together! (Chorus – Explosive, raunchy belt with moans in the background) We are never ever ever... getting back together! We are never ever ever... getting back together! You go low, I go high—then you go tongue-deep, goodbye! We are never ever ever... getting back together... like ever! 🔥🍑 I'm sick of your garden lectures and your "let's move" thighs, While I'm out here leaking memos, you're out here making me cry (with envy). Ooh-ooh, this time I'm telling you... we're through! (But if Bill's golfing and Barack's away... text me "When they go low" boo.) (Verse 2 – Michelle, sultry, arm-flexing confidence with side-eye shade) I remember how you'd drop to your knees in the Map Room after hours, Trade classified intel for a taste of my legendary powers. We'd argue who topped harder—your pantsuit grind or my sleeveless slam, Then flip for hours in the Lincoln Bedroom, screaming each other's damn name. But you blew the election, blamed everybody but your ego, Left me to console the nation while you raged on a ego tour. Now you're memeing about hot sauce and health care glow-ups, But I know you still crave my... motivational strap-on ups. (Pre-Chorus – Overlapping catfight chaos) Hillary: You said forever, now forever's fucked! Michelle: Girl, your ambition's hot, but my glow-up's got you tucked! Both: We are never... ever... getting back together! (Chorus – Bigger, filthier key change, crowd chanting "When they go low!") We are never ever ever... getting back together! (You belong in the history books, not between my legs!) We are never ever ever... getting back together! (Your pantsuits clash with my gun-show begs!) Ooh-ooh, looking at your polls hurts my legacy thighs, We are never ever ever... getting back together... like ever! (Bridge – Slow, dripping seduction, then explosive) Hillary (panting): Remember the Correspondents' Dinner slow grind? Michelle (

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