A celebration of information. Everything's a tool that can be used or misused. I choose to use. What is this genre? Kinda punk but not really? Alt rock with a little electronic, some of this, some of that. A little something for everyone? Or absolutely nothing for anyone? Idk. Enjoy. Or don't. I'm not the boss of you.

EAT THE RIND

Many years ago, on a mushroom-fueled wilderness adventure with friends, we found ourselves in a conversation about the big, obvious thing that sometimes blocks you from being able to see the truth of a situation or, more broadly, stands in the way of you reaching enlightenment (whatever that means for you). The obstacle is right there in front of you, huge and unable to be missed -- like, for instance, a giant moose -- and yet you don't see it. You think the path is clear and you can't understand why you keep running into a big, furry wall (or why that big, furry wall sometimes gets angry and kicks you until you're just a puddle of pudding).

As often happens in these types of late night, mind-altered discussions with groups of friends, we somehow landed on the phrase "move your moose" -- as in "you have to learn to move your moose, whatever that might be for you, out of the way so you can see the path ahead and reach [insert goal here]." For some reason, that phrase always stuck with me. And, since I've been listening to a lot of Mr. Bungle lately (if you haven't, do yourself a favor), I decided to get a little weird with it today. Admittedly, I didn't go crazy hard into the Bungle paint, but I sprinkled it onto my own thing like a little seasoning. I hope you enjoy the result. 

LYRICS:

Thanks, wrapped in bacon
Nailed to a tree
Placed upon a pedestal
Tear your bloody heart out
Split divinity
Looking up, you take the fall

Princely pauper, play the fool
Six paces in a solo duel
Seven, if you count the dead
Now warm the bullet in your head

I can’t see
When you’re in front of me
So get the fuck out the way
And move your moose
I can’t see
When you’re in front of me
So get the fuck out the way
And move your moose

I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t
I can’t I can’t I can’t I can't

Suck inspiration
Smile and hold it in (your breath)
Exhale and you’ve blown it all
Tear your bloody heart out
Don’t smile at me again
Without ground, you miss the fall

Princely pauper, play the fool
Six people in a swimming pool
Seven, if you count the dead
Now count the voices in your head

I can’t see
When you’re in front of me
So get the fuck out the way
And move your moose
I can’t see
When you’re in front of me
So get the fuck out the way
And move your moose

I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t
I can’t I can’t I can’t I can't

Princely pauper, play the fool
Six paces in a solo duel
Seven, if you count the dead
Now warm the bullet in your head

I can’t see
When you’re in front of me
So get the fuck out the way
And move your moose
I can’t see
When you’re in front of me
So get the fuck out the way
And move your moose

I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t
I can’t I can’t I can’t I can't

Move your moose
Come on, move your moose
You got to move your moose
You've got to, you've got to

You've got to move your moose
Come on and move that moose
Your sacred goal, take control
Make a hole and move your moose!

© 2025 Funk McPuke

Move Your Moose

MOVE YOUR MOOSE

The more things change, the more they stay the same, eh? I wrote this as just a straight-up punk song (with a little metal flavor) several years ago when I was doom-scrolling way too much and making myself more depressed than usual. At that time, I was constantly both baffled by and frustrated at the fact that people were letting what had always felt like a solid foundation begin to crumble, potentially catastrophically, under the weight of dueling misinformation. 

Now, several years later, here we are in this weird fever dream of a timeline and things have certainly changed, but mostly just to get weirder and worse. It's like that scene in Deadpool when Wade tells Francis that he can't step up the already seemingly maxed level of torture and, spoiler alert, Francis scoffs and shows him that oh, yes, you can. Each time I think "Well, this is the peak of it, surely," reality finds a way to out-weird itself. And then tells me not to call it Shirley.

Anyway, it felt like a good time to reinterpret this unfortunately even more relevant song, evolve it a little, maybe get a little weirder with it myself. 

LYRICS:

We threw a war and everyone died
Everyone is going crazy
Everyone is going crazy
Our rights were wrong, so government lied
Everyone is going crazy
Everyone is going nuts

You and I will never be
In the future bright we paid to see
The past lies conquered, the future sold
To the very rich and the very old

Forever
Forever
Forever
For ever

The vote was lost when it ended a tie
Everyone is going crazy
Everyone is going crazy
Yet no one seemed to spot the lie
Everyone is going crazy
Everyone is going nuts

Tossed in blind to sink or swim
Swallow the shit you drowned me in
Will we stoop to sell this bitch
to the very old and the very rich? 

Never
No never
No never
No, never

LET'S GET NUTS!

Everything
(Going crazy)
Everyone
(Going crazy)
Everything
(Going crazy)
Everyone is
Crazy, crazy, CRAZY!!!

Everything is going crazy
Everyone is going crazy
Everything is going crazy
Everyone is going crazy
Everything is going crazy
Everyone is going crazy
Everything is going crazy
Everyone is fucking NUTS

© 2025 Funk McPuke

Going Crazy 2k25

GOING CRAZY XXV

When I started posting songs here, I did it totally for myself and with the idea that this would be my place to make weird music without worrying about if anyone was listening. With no earballs on me, I could just smoosh together different sounds and genres just to see what would happen, write songs journaling whatever I was feeling or thinking about in the moment, and not worry in the slightest about if anyone liked what I was doing. It was my way of making sure that I was making the real music I was feeling or wanted to hear and not just chasing numbers, clout, dollars, or anything else.

Still, I'm a human being (and a bit of a people pleaser), so sometimes when I start working on a new song to post here, I find myself having to fight off the urge to "give the people what they want" or "do the smart thing" of following up a song people liked with more of the same and, instead, write whatever I'm feeling. This song is my artistic statement reminding myself to just write the weird, true thing -- whatever that may be on any given day -- and let the spins fall where they may. 

Still, I do hope you enjoy this one. Like every "most recent song I've written," this is currently my favorite. Ymmv.

LYRICS:

Let's get the artist out here
(The real me)
Turn this whisper to a shout here
(Go real deep)
But before you bring your doubt here
(Don't feel me?)
Find out what I'm about here
(The real me)

Why'd I start this band?
Everybody wanna know
Like anything was planned
and my problems just for show
I don't worry 'bout the reap
Only care about the sew
I'm just aimin' at infinity
and tryin' to grow, but look

Nobody understands
That's already in my plan
Not wildly chasing styles
My mind is my grind, man

Let's get the artist out here
(The real me)
Turn this whisper to a shout here
(And feel free)
Yo, before you bring your doubt here
(Don't feel me?)
I'll spill what I'm about here
(The real tea)

So do I even care
That it's yet to unfold?
Do I sometimes feel
Like I'm gettin' too old?
Bro, I'm chasin' after music
I'm not chasin' the gold
Besides I've heard that luck is made
And fortune favors the bold, still I'm

Feelin' like a stranger
In the strangest land
Content to pay my rent
with my mind and my grind, and

Let's get the artist out here
(The real me)
Turn this whisper to a shout here
(It's healing)
So before you bring your doubt here
(Don't hear me?)
That's all that I'm about here
(No, really)

Cower from my consonants
Fear my vowels
Powerful and confident
Hear me howl
Mentally incontinent
I clear my bowels
While the lyrically incompetent
Just sits and scowls

Breakin' like the continents 
I'm grayin' as I growl
But if they sayin' I lack confidence
They never seen me smile
And if they pray that I lack common sense
They payin' for it child
Cuz I am slayin' I'm just sayin
I ain't playin', hear me now!

Do it Johnny, do it

Let's get the artist out here
(The real me)
Turn this whisper to a shout here
(I breathe deep)
So no need to bring your doubt here
(Don't fear me)
That's not what I'm about here
(But feel free)

Let's get the artist out here
(The real D)
Turn this whisper to a shout here
(For real, B)
When it's getting lonely out here
(Words heal me)
I share what I'm about here
(The real me)

So please, don't you worry 'bout me
The future seems like a great place to be
And I hope that you're there to share it with me
As we stand at the edge of 

infinity

© 2025 Funk McPuke

The Real Me

THE REAL ME

Like "Move Your Moose," this is another one of the songs I wrote in the "clear light" period after a shroomy weekend with friends many years ago. I noodled around with the idea for a while -- though it mostly just lived in my notebook -- and finally produced a fairly simple, mostly garage rock version that I posted here on SC last year. 

In that time, of course, my favorite sounds and current musical obsessions have continued to evolve. And I'd like to think my skills have leveled up at least a little. So, I thought it would be fun to take a song from much earlier in my SC journey and reinterpret it -- or, at least, the most basic structure of it -- through my current lens. 

Basically, I'm covering my very slightly younger self. It's like Taylor's version except Taylor's doing Taylor's version of Taylor's original version and I'm both Taylors, so it's kind of a weird narcissistic spiral. It's Taylors all the way down. But the song is catchy and you know what? I think you'll like it. 

If the beginning doesn't grab you, give it a minute. Like the Oklahoma weather, it will change.

LYRICS:

Open the door
Give us a smile
It’s always good to see
Familiar face
Wink of an eye
Don’t play your games with me

Follow me down
To a bridge by a fountain
You
Can't see me

THROUGH THE CRACK (I’m away)
Don’t look back (I’m away)
Losing track (I’m away)
On my way, on my way
THROUGH THE CRACK (I’m away)
Don’t look back (I’m away)
Losing track (I’m away)
On my way, on my way, hey

Calling the dogs
You bite yourself
Observing what you know
Surround yourself
With plenty of you
And swallow, and swallow

Follow me down
To a bridge by a fountain
You
Can't see me

THROUGH THE CRACK (I’m away)
Don’t look back (I’m away)
Losing track (I’m away)
On my way, on my way
THROUGH THE CRACK (I’m away)
Don’t look back (I’m away)
Losing track (I’m away)
On my way, on my way

I'm gone

I'm gone

Go
Go
Go, go
Go, go, go, go
See ya!

Gotta get up 
To get off
Never let up 
Or let off
Put your bet up
Pull your bet off
It's a set up? 
I'mma set off

Follow me down
To a bridge by a fountain
You
Can't see me

THROUGH THE CRACK (I’m away)
Don’t look back (I’m away)
Losing track (I’m away)
On my way, on my way
THROUGH THE CRACK (I’m away)
Don’t look back (I’m away)
Losing track (I’m away)
On my way, on my way

THROUGH THE CRACK
I’m fallin'
Don’t look back
Stop callin'
Losing track
I’m slippin'
On my way
Stop trippin'

© 2025 Funk McPuke

The Crack XXV

THE CRACK XXV

This is kind of a punk-flavored diss track, I guess. Although I think it's healthier to just cut the liars and deadwood out of your life and move on instead of letting them drag you down, sometimes it's good to allow yourself a little moment of catharsis. You don't want to bottle that stuff up. Let it out and then let it go.

LYRICS:

Hypertension in the room like a heart attack
It's my mission, bring you doom, I go cardiac
You transition to the tomb with this rat-tat-tat
Clutch your chest, I'm the best, just die knowing that

Why you be biting me like a party snack?
While I be writing free, have your started that?
What you see? Where you be? Where the artist at?
For a fee, I could teach but you'll part with stacks

Beat drop, heart stop
Tip-top, hip-hop

Give it up, you're going down
I bring the smoke and take the crown
Bend the knee, I feed on your ego
Give it up, bro! What? Give it up, yo!

Apprehension when I catch you deep inside a lie
Intermission, then I snatch a look from satellite
Feel the fission, blow the hatch, hurt I can't deny
Now you're dead in my head, scratch you from my life

They don't play when they say that some folks will change
When you winnin' then your friends can get very strange
Jealousy gets ugly, it infects they brains
Then you see who they be when they have no shame

Beat drop, heart stop
Tip-top, hip-hop

Give it up, you're going down
I bring the smoke and take the crown
Bend the knee, I feed on your ego
Give it up, bro! What? Give it up, yo!

Burning with flaws
But they don't define me
I turn them to flows
And let them refine me
Slip off the chains
I won't let them bind me
Sailing to new worlds
Boats burning behind me

Beat drop, heart stop
Tip-top, hip-hop

Give it up, you're going down
I bring the smoke and take the crown
Bend the knee, I feed on your ego
Give it up, bro! What? Give it up, yo!

Give it up, you're going down
I bring the smoke and take the crown
Bend the knee, I feed on your ego
Give it up, bro! What? Give it up

Yo, I can't believe I did that
Broke me off a piece like Kit-Kat
But give me a pad and a pen with no cap and
You best believe I'd hit that

You say that you ain't with that
But, homie, can you spit that?
If not then I can't hear it
Cuz just talking's for the riff-raff

© 2025 Funk McPuke

Give It Up

GIVE IT UP

I mean, we're all watching the same news. Sort of. Well, we're talking about the same news stories. Sometimes. When it serves the people reporting the news. And, of course, everybody denies everybody else's news stories and makes up counter-narrative news stories of their own and then argue about the news stories that they each made up, and... people wonder why it's all such a big mess.

Anyway, I decided to get a little weird with it. Not as weird instrumentally as I sometimes do (though there are some fun moments), but weird lyrically this time. 

Oh! And for a fun extra challenge, I wondered if I could at least slant-rhyme every syllable of the verses with the syllables of the numerical first lines that kick off each verse chunk. I got pretty close. The continuous rhyme gets a little wibbly-wobbly as I sometimes REALLY slant those rhymes, but I like it. 

LYRICS:

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight
On TV, whores thrive, sex sellin' hate
Want to see more hives? Sick, salivate
Down to the core, find sticks, stabbin' it

John? Who, me? No time, let's revelate
Underneath you're alive, inanimate
Until we survive this "heaven-scape"
Won't you free your mind, fix, elevate?

If the truth is what you need
Watch the forest, not the trees

Open your eyes and
RISE UP!
Say no to the lies and
RISE UP!
Don't live on your knees, just
RISE UP!
Are you the land of the free? Then
RISE UP!

Before it's all banned up
Yo, you gotta stand up

Eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one
Hate's ever thick. Why? Forty-two, son
Ain't never slick lies, fork the truth, scum
Aches ever since I heard the truth's dumb

Apes sever sins by forcing new ones
Take every stick, find torturing's too fun 
Snake's heaven-sense? Lies, forging truth, done
Fake sermons kick high forgeries. Who's won?  

If the truth is what you need
Watch the forest, not the trees

Open your eyes and
RISE UP!
Say no to the lies and
RISE UP!
Don't live on your knees, just
RISE UP!
Are you the land of the free? Then
RISE UP!

Before it's all banned up
Stand up

Show me a Herb
I be smokin' that Herb
Light 'em up, breathe
Spittin' fire-like words
Let 'em keep talkin, man
They stuff sound absurd
The whispers gettin' loud
But now we're listenin', ya heard?

If the truth is what you need
Watch the forest, not the trees

Open your eyes and
RISE UP!
Say no to the lies and
RISE UP!
Don't live on your knees, just
RISE UP!
Are you the land of the free? Then
RISE UP!

Open your eyes and
RISE UP!
Say no to the lies and
RISE UP!
Don't live on your knees, just
RISE UP!
Are you the land of the free? Then
RISE UP!

Before it's all banned up
Stand up
For sure put your hand up
Stand up
Then lift your eyes up and
Rise up
Just grab that prize up, now
RISE UP

© 2025 Funk McPuke

Rise Up

RISE UP

A little bit of throwback rock with electro indie vibes and a dash of House sprinkled on top, this song has a chorus that, I'mma be honest, I think goes hard.

If you're having or going to one of those Halloween parties where everybody is dressed as "the horny version" of everything, this song is perfect, even though it doesn't have any ghosties or ghoulies or anything. 

And if you're not going to one of those parties, the song works in all kinds of other situations too. Maybe it's a song to make bad decisions to. Or it could be a theme song for a particular period in your life (past, present, or future). Or, y'know, you could just vibe to the hook. 

Did I mention that the hook goes hard?

LYRICS:

Sexy people
Dressing up like sexy people
Hooking up with sexy people
Dressing up like sexy people
Sexy people, sexy people

I'm

Prowling the floor
You can't see my face
I'm wearing the mask
Pretending I'm someone I think you want

You're

Covered in something
That looks like it's nothing
You're hunting for me
Looking like someone I saw on TV

You're not her and I'm not him
This ain't real, it's on a whim
But I don't care if you don't care
I don't care if you don't care
I don't care I don't care I don't care

Sexy people
Dressing up like sexy people
Hooking up with sexy people
Dressing up like sexy people
Sexy people, sexy people

It's clear

Catching our eyes
Our false-colored eyes
We see what we need
The hunger inside

We're

Looking for something
To fill up the nothing
Prowler and prey
No need to deny

You're not her and I'm not him
This ain't real, it's on a whim
But I don't care if you don't care
I don't care if you don't care
I don't care I don't care I don't care

Sexy people
Dressing up like sexy people
Hooking up with sexy people
Dressing up like sexy people
Sexy people, sexy people

You're not her and I'm not him
This ain't real, it's on a whim
But I don't care if you don't care
I don't care if you don't care
I don't care I don't care I don't care

Sexy people
Dressing up like sexy people
Hooking up with sexy people
Dressing up like sexy people
Sexy people, sexy people

Sexy people
Dressing up like sexy people
Hooking up with sexy people
Dressing up like sexy people
Sexy people, sexy people

Sexy people 
(I don't care)
Sexy people
(If you don't care)
Sexy people
(Do we dare?)
Sexy people
(I'm not scared)

Sexy people
People
Sexy people
Sexy, sexy people

Hooking up with sexy people

© 2025 Funk McPuke

Sexy People

SEXY PEOPLE

Y'all, I've been really struggling to write any new music for the past few weeks. I started psyching myself out, second-guessing everything, and listening to my inner self-diss track on repeat. Finally, I just said "F it", played an Uno Reverse card on my writer's block, and wrote a song about it, telling myself to stop worrying about everything and just write something. I made the problem the solution.

I mean, that's the whole reason I started posting music here in the first place, right? Soundcloud, for me, is a place where I can just write/pile up songs for the fun/therapy of it. And if you somehow find them and you like them too? Sick. And if you're actually reading this? Even sicker. You're dope af.

And if you're not reading this? Ha! You'll never know what *we* know. Isn't that right, my description-reading friend?

Anyway, here's the song that came out of it. I hope you like  it. 

Aw, dang it! There's goes all the work I put into not caring what people think.

But, fr, I do hope you like it. I think it's a fun, catchy song with some fun, catchy styles jammed together that you don't normally hear mixed. And the hook contains a juicy double (though, as a whole, it's kind of a cheeky triple). I know I'm supposed to act cool, walk away from the explosion without looking back, etc., but, as someone who feels eternally like a beginner, I'm kinda stoked. I didn't use to be able to do that. 

And, y'know, sometimes you need to make room for patting yourself on the back a little. Artists don't always have to be tortured souls, right?

Right?

Enjoy!

-=-=-=-=-

LYRICS:

Don't
Get
Caught

Sleepin' or slippin'
This feelin I flip
Got you reelin', I'm rippin'
You kneelin', I'm nippin'
You stealin' and strippin'
I'm wheelin' and whippin'
Big dealin', I drip
At the ceilin' I'm chippin'

I'm healin' and hip and
Appealin' like Pippin
The tea leaves I'm sippin'
Say shut up, stop trippin'
I don't mind they lippin'
I'm gon' be fine-tippin'
Won't ever be skippin'
Just grinnin' and winnin'

Then anxiety 
Gets inside of me
Makes it hard to see
Makes it hard to breathe

I get lightheaded when I'm havin' ideas
The bulbs be poppin' and they bringin' they fears
Don't think about the risk 
The reward, or careers
Just flip them switches, son
Let them bitches premiere

Let them bitches premiere

Don't
Get
Caught

Fakin' to make it
Don't make no mistakes 
You get shaken, feel naked
Start flakin', word breakin'
You quake in your bacon
Head achin', forsaken
Awaken the snake
Start hatin' your greatness

Number One like J. Frakes
Never fake or half-baked
Start bakin' my cake, yuh
I'm makin' a plate, and
I'm statin' the stakes
And I'm raisin' the rates
Is that all that it takes
to be the greatest of greats?

Then anxiety 
Gets inside of me
Makes it hard to see
Makes it hard to breathe

I get lightheaded when I'm havin' ideas
The bulbs be poppin' and they bringin' they fears
Don't think about the risk 
The reward, or careers
Just flip them switches, son
Let them bitches premiere

Let them bitches premiere

The studio shower
Is the dopest of booths
You get all that reverb
While spittin' yo truth
Clean version or dirty?
New soap, no excuse.
Just drop them bars, son
Let your words be the proof

Then anxiety 
Gets inside of me
Makes it hard to see
Makes it hard to breathe

I get lightheaded when I'm havin' ideas (whoah-oh)
The bulbs be poppin' and they bringin' they fears
Don't think about the risk 
The reward, or careers
Just flip them switches, son

Yeah

I get lightheaded when I'm havin' ideas (oh, oh)
The bulbs be poppin' and they bringin' they fears
Don't think about the risk 
The reward, or careers
Just flip them switches, son
Let them bitches premiere

Let them bitches premiere

I'm being sincere
Let them bitches premiere
Flip them switches, son
We been itchin' to hear

Let go of the fear
No use for it here
Flip them switches, son
Let them bitches premiere

© 2025 Funk McPuke

Lightheaded

LIGHTHEADED

Originally inspired by my love of the Fallout games and a random phrase I babbled in a gaming video years ago that I thought was fun to say, "Fallout Shoutout" is a country-flavored electropunk track at its heart that, late in production, took an impulsive left turn and instead became a voice-driven dance pop song with some rock, House, and R&B, plus a little hip hop flavor in the lyrical cadences.

Written from the POV of a badass character living in the Fallout world, this song is fun and funky, goes hard when it needs to, and maybe has a little sneaky depth to it.  Hey! Kinda like the show!  

Anyway, I figured with season 2 of the series about to drop--and *me* about to drop myself into a chair to laser-focus my usually scattered attention on every minute of it--this would be a great time to *finally* stop making and re-making this song every year or two (before setting it aside yet again) and just put it in front of some earballs. So here it is. Enjoy!

LYRICS:

Fallout shoutout
Raider rout out
Nuka sun's out
Get your guns out

Hideout spied out
Find out, guide out
Kite the fight out
Grind out, ride out, oh

Running down raiders just for fun
Gunning down ghouls that's got the runs (oh yeah)
Working on the bench 'til I skill my guns
Put a sting in they tail like a rad scorpion, yeah

WAR! War never changes
ROAR! World's full of dangers
SURE! You could trust strangers, but
WAR NEVER CHANGES
POOR! We gonna rise up
MORE! We lift our eyes up
LORE! World rearranges, but
WAR NEVER CHANGES

Fallout shoutout
Gettin' rough out
Think you tough now?
Take your Buffout, oh

Always look out
Before you vault out
Jet and Psycho
Psyche your head out

Vats is phat and you is done
Apocalypse was just round 1
Like rats, you scat when this cat come
With a pack of clips that fits my gun 

WAR! War never changes
ROAR! World's full of dangers
SURE! You could trust strangers, but
WAR NEVER CHANGES
POOR! We gonna rise up
MORE! We lift our eyes up
LORE! World rearranges, but
WAR NEVER CHANGES

Peace will never rise from ash
Unless you see me build it
Piece by piece with junk and trash
A home because I willed it
I lead the sheep and reap a stash
From dirt because I tilled it
Been runnin' this game ever since Day 1
You best believe I killed it!

In the apocalypse, the lock o' lips
On a mislaid Nuka's naked bottle tip
Is some erotic shit but I rocks with it
Get so thirsty when I drop some feral populace
But can you bop to this? Drop ya bomb to this?
Talk ya shit, ball ya fist, bang a gong to this?
Do you belong to this? Is it wrong to diss?
Feel this hit like the Swiss set they bongs to this?

Deathclaw just saw
One last breath draw
Run past? Hell, nah
Gun fast, quick draw

Bloatfly, Yao-Guai
Molerat surprise
Brahmin deep-fried
A fast food franchise

Strollin' down the Strip, I spot Gomorrah
Yo, babyghoul, got some bottlecaps for ya
Drill my SPECIAL skill, not gonna bore ya
Little bit rich, leave a lotta bit poorer 

WAR! War never changes
ROAR! World's full of dangers
SURE! You could trust strangers, but
WAR NEVER CHANGES
POOR! We gonna rise up
MORE! We lift our eyes up
LORE! World rearranges, but
WAR NEVER CHANGES

Never changes
It never changes
No, never changes
War never changes

War never changes, oh!
War never changes

Whoa ooh-oh uh-uh oh
Whoa ooh, whoa ooh, uh-uh oh

© 2025 Funk McPuke

Fallout Shoutout

FALLOUT SHOUTOUT

If you haven't been keeping up with your celebrity news and you're wondering, "What is Fifty Cent's beef with Sean 'P-Diddy' Combs and what does that have to do with Fifty's chart-topping documentary on Netflix?" but you don't actually have the time or interest to watch the doc or read an article, here's the TL;DR for ya in musical form. Because, let's be honest: Who among us doesn't want to get their celebrity news in the form of rowdy frat rock?

OK, FR FR: I was chatting with a friend who found it hilarious how personally Fifty Cent took that offer to go shopping and how long he's held onto it. I made the joke that it was too bad Fifty didn't want to go shopping when he was asked because "Fiddy-Diddy" is a great Hollywood power-couple name. I then realized that it also sounded like one of those weird, gibberish-ridden novelty songs from the '60s like "Woolly Bully" or "Louie Louie." 

So, later that day, I started singing "Fiddy-Diddy" to myself to the tune of "Woolly Bully" as I cleaned the house and did the dishes, and it made me laugh enough to decide to carve away the literal, legally non-distinct "Woolly Bully" and transform the rest of the idea into a real, purposely-referential-but-unique song. An homage to those songs and that style, where "Fiddydiddy" could just be a fun gibberish word the kids say to annoy their parents or a new dance that's sweeping the socials. From that goofy seed sprang this silly oak.

It's a loose, raucous garage rock song inspired by the vibe of those old party tunes but, as fun, loose, and silly as it is, I do think it's interesting to put yourself in the shoes of an archaeologist or anthropologist looking back at our present moment from the far future, with minimal evidence and no context. How much like gibberish would this news story sound?  *Especially* if they only had this song to go by. Oof.  

Or maybe they'd think a "Fiddydiddy" was some sort of mythological creature, and the verses are an allegory? 

Then I'd pop up in a time machine and say, "Nah, bro. The lyrics are abstracted, but it's a literal retelling of the beef." And then I'd disappear and leave them to debate the historical meaning of the word "beef" when used in that context and in my strangely-accented dialect from The Stupid Ages. Hopefully they'll have already rediscovered Tupac's "Hit 'Em Up" and/or Ice Cube's "No Vaseline" and can use those as a Rosetta Stone of sorts when deciphering the disses and beefs of their ancestors. If not, then all our hopes and dreams of the tales of our most legendary rap beefs surviving deep into the future will be lost in time, like tears in rain.

So, yeah, I think it's a fun song. I hope you enjoy it. And, hey, if you don't, at least it's short. That's just one of the many services I offer to you, my dear listener. Especially those of you who've bothered to read this far. You're the real ones and I appreciate you. Truly.

Anyway, this is just a bit of fun, so enjoy!

LYRICS:

Ten, twenty, thirty, forty!

Ay, Fiddydiddy!
Watch it now, watch it!

Here he comes, here he comes
Watch it now, he getcha!

Diddy asked Fiddy
Do you wanna shop?
Fiddy said not really
Bro, you better stop

Fiddydiddy (woo!)
Fiddydiddy (woo!)
Fiddydiddy, Diddyfiddy
Fiddydiddy, yeah

Watch it, now! Watch it!

Fiddy told Diddy
We gon' make a doc
Diddy said, Oh, Fiddy
My crew won't never talk

Fiddydiddy (woo!)
Fiddydiddy (woo!)
Fiddydiddy, Diddyfiddy
Fiddydiddy, yeah

Watch it now, watch it, here he comes
Ay, he a bad boy too
FREAK OFF!

Diddy say Fiddy
Cease or I'mma sue
Fiddy say No Diddy
Gon' fiddle with you

Fiddydiddy (woo!)
Fiddydiddy (woo!)
Fiddydiddy, Diddyfiddy
Fiddydiddy, yeah

Watch it, now! Watch it!

Watch it now, watch it
Here he comes
He got it, he got that baby oil
Oh, there he go
Now he slippin' away

© 2025 Funk McPuke

Fiddydiddy

FIDDYDIDDY

Hey there, y'all! I'm Funk McPuke, an artist and musician originally from Los Angeles, CA but now living in my own little world.

After being in a bunch of punk and metal bands, I started writing and posting my own music here as a way of journaling feels, processing emotions, having fun with sounds, and annoying my neighbors. I decided early on to always just write whatever I was feeling in the moment and never chase an audience or clicks or clout, the result being that my music is a mix of various styles I like in various balances without any attempt to cater to a particular audience or genre. Depending on the song, you might hear a little punk, metal, grunge, electro, rap, post-hardcore, industrial, or any combination of those and other genres. I like to squish different sounds together and see what happens. If it sounds good, has a catchy hook, and makes me want to either cry or jump on my furniture and break stuff, it gets posted. Soundcloud is my place to play around and have a good time making music I enjoy without overthinking it too much. 

Ymmv. If you like one thing and one thing only -- like, if you're one of those people who believes punk has a uniform or something is "not metal" if it doesn't sound like all the other bands you listen to -- this might not be for you. Or maybe it is. Idk. I'm not the boss of you. Give it a listen and decide for yourself. And, hey, if you don't like one song, try another. You might like that one better.

Either way, I'mma keep writing and posting music for myself. But, y'know, if you find some lyrics you connect with, some hook that makes you bounce around your house, or just something to put on while you FINALLY do those dishes that have been stinking up your kitchen for the past week, then welcome. Even though I'm not chasing an audience, I do love getting messages from people who've connected with something I've made. It makes me feel less alone in the world and, for all those people who've messaged me in the past or will message me in the future, I appreciate you. I truly do. Thanks for stopping by and giving me a listen. I may write this music for myself because I think that's the best way to keep it honest, but I still believe music, like all art, is best when it's shared.