The last time I wrote about Plies a commenter by the name of “Mrs. Plies” acted as if she was ready to bash me over the head with her Uncle’s Pimp Cup after I dared to speak ill of Catfish Mouth’s new video.
Well, Mrs. Plies, I suggest you floss in advance that way you can suck your teeth for the next few minutes without finding any surprises.
What in the I miss MC Hammer hell is this? Who says things like, “I want to turn you into a spoiled brat?” And not just an occasional spoiled brat, Plies wants to turn his lucky lady into one “sebum dayz ah weak.” Why is he talking like that? Negro, we know you just started a college fund. Quit fronting.
Only 23 seconds into this video I’m tempted to turn it off. But I suppose I should give him the benefit of the doubt.
Wrong! It gets worse.
Soon after Plies is possessed by the spirit of Ja Rule because he starts singing like the swamp remix version of the Harlem Boys Choir. Rappers want to sing. Singers want to rap. Why can’t anyone stick to what they’re barely tolerable at anymore?
Then come the trite lyrics for a song we’ve already heard a million times before. You know, one of those tracks “for the ladies” that inspires a bunch of women to continue to throw out their coochie for commerce with the hopes that one day some man with enough clout to get on a gossip blog can scoop them off their feet and send them regular child support checks before dropping their ass back on the ground.
Or as Plies sells it buying you fancy clothes, big jewelry, and sending you tickets to places most people can’t even pronounce.
Because you can have whatever you like. Say, you can have whatever you like.
As big a fan I am of T.I. I hated that song, too.
Although most rappers end up living off of Red Lobster’s cheddar biscuits once they spend their heavily garnished royalty checks on their car lease, their jewelry rentals, and multiple two-piece combos for their crews.
Are people not tired of being sold this ridiculous fantasy?
I guess not because I saw a lot of comments focused on how catchy the song is, how they can’t wait to lead a similar lifestyle and how attractive they find Plies to be.
It would be mean of me to wish for Mother Goose to scramble their eggs so I’ll just say bless your heart and your deductive reasoning.
In sum, I hate the song, hate the message, seen the video 120 times in the last five years already, and would love it if the world took a moratorium on trick anthems.
Only a week ago was I reflecting on fond memories about old Cash Money concerts, particularly the Ruff Ryders/Cash Money joint tour.
At the time, I was still really really trying to convince my penis that it could enjoy the taste of Starkist over the rainbow. The Cash Money crew assisted in these efforts by bringing out random women with no self-respect to hop on stage and shake their ass for free. If you’re wondering, yes, had they at least been shaking ass for money to pay the tax man I would be way more understanding.
In any event, based on those old tours I thought I had seen it wall — including vaginas with walls reminiscent of the one in Berlin.
Clearly, I am mistaken.
Never have I ever seen a mother-daughter coochie pop combo on stage. I can’t say that I’m surprised that it took place in my hometown. It’s even less surprising that Too Short is serving us this generational heaux off.
Considering that only a couple of days ago was I dancing to this same song in my car tipsy in Vegas (I was celebrating my birthday, I was within my right) I don’t knock the song selection. However, couldn’t they have saved this for a more appropriate event? Say an after Christmas dinner dance?
I mean, I’ve gotten my auntie’s to jig to Beyonce after we finished celebrating Indian murders and Jesus’ birthday, but I definitely held back on some of my routine. For example: When I want to swing under a rail and then drop to the ground I save that for the club and “Gimme More.”
Not with my people on camera.
I’ll be damned if you ever see me doing a dick dance with my pops on stage.
And you know what, even if Mama Sinick can secretly get low I don’t want to know that. That’s just wrong. Let’s keep our p-popping, separate.
Or maybe I’m being prudish. That’s fine, I’ll be that because these two look like a Maury episode waiting to happen. If your mama will try to out twirk you on stage, she’s probably not above trying to out sex your man.
Watch your back, daughter. Mama’s knees make me suspicious. As does letting Too Short call her own child a bitch and saying if he were her step-daddy he’d fuck her. Sounds like a former PTA president if you ask me.
In the midst of celebrating my birthday on Monday and doing loads and loads of work after I haven’t been able to break down every single video that’s come out recently. But last night I finally took the time to round a good 10 or so to review.
I pitched this in January, finally had it cleared in late February, turned it in early March, and found out yesterday (mid-April, my birthday) that it wasn’t running. I’ll likely explain later but in sum: I like this article, it should’ve ran. I knew Nicki would be a focal point of discussion several months ago, it’s unfortunate things didn’t pan out as planned. But somebody’s reading this, darn it.
Check it out below, please leave your thoughts.
Oh, and if you’re tired me talking about Nicki, fret not: You’re not obligated to read it.
We need to have a publicist drive. There are clearly too many sad individuals in the world suffering because of the shortage of legitimate image handlers. You would think with all of the money she made off my niece and her other Disney watching friends that this Cheetah Girl would have better people around her.
It’s bad enough she released that date rape leads to great sex song. Then she had the nerve to release a video for it and now come out with a bunch of excuses that make not a lick of sense. I don’t believe anything she’s saying, but I will advise one thing: Pick one lie and stay with it.
In the video she’s saying all songs don’t need a “message.” Or as she put it, “Sometimes a song can just be, ‘I kissed a girl and I liked it.’” Uh, and your song is I was face down, ass up after getting drunk and I’m not sure if we used a condom or not. Don’t be mad we’re calling hoe shit, hoe shit. If you want to show us something film the remix at the free clinic and splat those negative test results in front of the camera. Or the prescription the doctor gave you.
Even though this video has nothing to do with me personally, why do I feel like she took my testicles, tossed them in a blender and pushed grind with all her might just to spite every man she could think of?
I can’t stand Michael Steele because I find him to be patronizing, annoying, nonsensical, and ridiculous in the worst ways possible. Now that he wants to play the race card he previously lashed out at others for using to defend himself, I can now add hypocrite to the list of reasons why Mr. Steele needs to change his name to Bobby.
Got a new piece up for AOL News on Steele’s recent comments about race and “slimmer margins for error” and how the former doesn’t excuse his mistakes.
For the life of me, I don’t understand why people who make millions upon millions of dollars catering to a younger demographic suddenly embrace their inner STD basket and create something completely antithetical to what made them a star.
I’ve previously written about ex-Cheetah Girl Kiely Williams’ pro-date rape anthem, “Spectacular,” earlier in the year. I was hoping since that time someone pulled her to the side and let her know that this wasn’t the direction she needed to go in. But no, she’s made a video for this.
I’m not going to insult her small budget. Who doesn’t have one these days? I’m not going to insult her appearance. We all got some ratchet in us.
No, I take that back. I’m definitely going to point out that she’s dressed like one of the Puerto Rican prostitutes that was slaughtered by this cop/serial killer (no Dexter) in that old episode of New York Undercover that I was watching the other day.
This song and video will both haunt her for the rest of her post-Cheetah Girls career.
Why oh why are you laying in bed with black Vigo (yes, that’s a Ghostbusters II reference)?
Based on the lyrical content of the song, why isn’t she filming herself filing a police report?
She could’ve easily filed her report, got the guy arrested and then had her dance break. That might have made me enjoy this just a little bit. A really tiny bit, but that’s the best I can do.
I swear child stars are like those sheltered children who wild out as soon as they leave the nest. Both end up face down, ass up. Both end up usually regretting it.
I’d like to think the girl can have some sort of credible career in her post-Disney world, but this isn’t going to boost her coin collection. Strangely ironic how the one who had KFC lunged at her head is the only one doing anything of note these days.
Good luck with this, Kiely. And yes, I hope he used a condom, too. Insert prayer for her vagina here.
