14:57... 14:58... 14:59...
I don't understand why Kevin Federline's (referred to in the popular press as "K-Fed" and, more recently, "Fed-Ex") album isn't doing better. I happened to catch some of his fly rhymes yesterday, and they be illin', yo!
Who could resist such lyrics as:
Dudes hate K-Fed
Chicks love K-Fed
It don't matter to me
Cause K-Fed stay fed!
I mean, what up, yo? That's some proper rhymes!
Or how about this bit of lyrical genius:
I'm comin' out
Like Janet's titty at the superbowl
BOO-yah! Oh, no he di'nt! That's some hilarious shit, y'all!
I- ...oh, dammit, okay, I can't pretend to like it anymore. I heard brief flashes of Mr. Federline's lyrics yesterday, and I'm still twitching. He is, as one critic so succinctly put it, magnificently bad. Thank God he's already on the last few seconds of his fifteen-minte countdown.
Who could resist such lyrics as:
Dudes hate K-Fed
Chicks love K-Fed
It don't matter to me
Cause K-Fed stay fed!
I mean, what up, yo? That's some proper rhymes!
Or how about this bit of lyrical genius:
I'm comin' out
Like Janet's titty at the superbowl
BOO-yah! Oh, no he di'nt! That's some hilarious shit, y'all!
I- ...oh, dammit, okay, I can't pretend to like it anymore. I heard brief flashes of Mr. Federline's lyrics yesterday, and I'm still twitching. He is, as one critic so succinctly put it, magnificently bad. Thank God he's already on the last few seconds of his fifteen-minte countdown.