Sometimes art isn’t subjective, or even art. If thistles is what people are listening to and enjoying, we’re fucked. How anyone can pen some of these lyrics and not immediately suicide is beyond me – examples:
Two plus two is four, minus one that’s three, quick maths
I trap, trap, trap on the phone, movin’ that cornflakes
Rice Krispies, hold tight my girl Whitney (my G)
Man can never be hot (never hot), perspiration ting (spray dat)
Lynx Effect (come on), you didn’t hear me, did you? (nah)
Use roll-on (use that), or spray
But either way, A-B-C-D (alphabet ting)
Fuck me is this actually happening? Are those lyrics? Am I awake?
Listen to this “song”, and I challenge you to not think that whoever made this isn’t an utter cunt.
Nominated by Cunting Rank Wags