Next Time Try The Broiler

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I’m almost not embarrassed to admit that I was a fan of Jennifer Lopez the singer. Granted, half the time she was singing over the vocals of others (Christina Milian, Ashanti, Natasha Ramos, to name a few), but I didn’t care. If her checks cleared and the hook was catchy enough I dug it. Are you judging me yet?

You probably are. You have to like judgment if you read this blog regularly. Fine. Go ‘head. Judge me. I’on care. I’m pretty sure at least seven of you loved “I’m Real” and “Jenny From The Block,” too. And I’m certain two and a half of you loved her third album, This Is Me…Then. If not, well you missed out on a good one (no seriously).

But this shit right here gets a no from me. Who the hell is Lola? Sasha Fierce’s old Puerto Rican babysitter? FYI celebrities, we’re tired of you pimpin’ out multiple personality disorder for self-gain. These days it only works if you’re a sitcom on Showtime.

I would probably be inclined to ignore Lola Lopez if the song itself had any jiggable qualities to it. Alas, it does not. The “break it off, here, break it off there” thing is OK, but that’s not enough to get it poppin’. I’m pretty sure the inclusion of Pitbull on the track was to lure a lot of those Latino hip-hop stations to give this song some spins. I pray to Our Lady of Guadalupe that doesn’t happen. We don’t need to encourage this. If this is the best J.Lo (and Pharrell…what the hell) can offer her time in music is done. I don’t like to tell people to quit but dammit stop.

At this point I’d rather hear a mix tape from Rosie Perez.

P.S. Oh and before you even try to call me out on the Young Sinick name on Twitter, that’s not the same. That’s my rap name. Mmph.

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