The musical stupidity has to stop
Metric, to blatantly advertise yourself as a standard of measurement, you do a piss-poor job of utilizing the English language. Neither yours, mine, or anyone's heart is beating like an inanimate object (hammer). Your request for help is denied. Please kindly die.
Far, well you barely deserve an honorable mention, since you clearly stole this off of... (Nice use of power-chords to completely dumb down a melody, though! There was a reason you went away the first time. Take it personally and overdose.)
Daniel Wesley. Who the fuck let you out of detention, you little prick?! I don't know what laws you broke, but I know you broke them, so you're guilty. Pony was trite when Ginuine did it. (No, I didn't make that up to rhyme with a "sick" lyric. Look it up, player.) Pony was what we called our pricks in the second grade. It's not a secret anymore--all of the ladies know you have one. Just FYI, it will get bigger than a pony... but we'll save that discussion for after you've hit puberty. Oh, and just wait until I break it off inside you. You'll cry yourself to sleep every time you THINK about singing that lyric.
Hayley Williams of Paramore... WHOA, you make me want to cut my wrists, cuz I've heard all the whiny fucking WHOA'ing I can take! God damn, I haven't heard anyone drop the W-bomb like that since Hitler sold Keanu Reeves front-row tickets to the bombing of Hiroshima. (Wait for it... wait for it... Ahh!)
Chris Martin of Coldplay... Fuck me, stop stealing! That's your only warning before I send you a one-way ticket to the Empire of Hurt*. *(The Empire of Hurt is sponsored by the Betterment of the Human Race Foundation.)
And finally... M.I.A. I almost feel sorry for picking on you. But close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades. You've written this obscenity entitled Paper Planes. Now, I understand your desire for political lyricism, but seriously... sound effects as lyrics? You've degraded the ORIGINAL art form: music, to now include auditory images. You've removed individualistic interpretation from the oldest institution of freedom. Holy mother of god's second bowl of macaroni and cheese, not even YOUR Sri Lankan ancestors can save us from this!
Will no one stop the madness?!
Far, well you barely deserve an honorable mention, since you clearly stole this off of... (Nice use of power-chords to completely dumb down a melody, though! There was a reason you went away the first time. Take it personally and overdose.)
Daniel Wesley. Who the fuck let you out of detention, you little prick?! I don't know what laws you broke, but I know you broke them, so you're guilty. Pony was trite when Ginuine did it. (No, I didn't make that up to rhyme with a "sick" lyric. Look it up, player.) Pony was what we called our pricks in the second grade. It's not a secret anymore--all of the ladies know you have one. Just FYI, it will get bigger than a pony... but we'll save that discussion for after you've hit puberty. Oh, and just wait until I break it off inside you. You'll cry yourself to sleep every time you THINK about singing that lyric.
Hayley Williams of Paramore... WHOA, you make me want to cut my wrists, cuz I've heard all the whiny fucking WHOA'ing I can take! God damn, I haven't heard anyone drop the W-bomb like that since Hitler sold Keanu Reeves front-row tickets to the bombing of Hiroshima. (Wait for it... wait for it... Ahh!)
Chris Martin of Coldplay... Fuck me, stop stealing! That's your only warning before I send you a one-way ticket to the Empire of Hurt*. *(The Empire of Hurt is sponsored by the Betterment of the Human Race Foundation.)
And finally... M.I.A. I almost feel sorry for picking on you. But close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades. You've written this obscenity entitled Paper Planes. Now, I understand your desire for political lyricism, but seriously... sound effects as lyrics? You've degraded the ORIGINAL art form: music, to now include auditory images. You've removed individualistic interpretation from the oldest institution of freedom. Holy mother of god's second bowl of macaroni and cheese, not even YOUR Sri Lankan ancestors can save us from this!
Will no one stop the madness?!