LYRICS:
One, here comes the two, 
To the three to the four
Everybody drunk 
Out on the pub floor now
Everybody in the pub 
Gettin' hammered
Now everybody in the pub 
Gettin' hammered

My baby want a Guinness pint, 
She's been tellin' me all night long
Petrol and fish and chips, 
The list goes on and on
This nine-to-five ain't workin', 
Why the hell do I work so hard
I can't worry 'bout my worries, 
I can't take 'em when I'm gone
Mmm mmm

One, here comes the two, 
To the three to the four
Tell 'em "Bring another round, 
We need plenty more!"
Tap dancing on the table, 
She don't need a dance floor
Oh my, good God

Someone pour me up a 
Double shot of Puppuccino
They know me and Jack Daniel's 
Bad for my spleen, ohh
There's a party downtown 
Near Oxford Street

Everybody at the pub 
Gettin' hammered 
Everybody at the pub 
Gettin' hammered 

Everybody at the pub 
Gettin' hammered 
Everybody at the pub 
Getting hammered

I've been gassy since I've left, 
I ain't changin' for a check
Tell my ma I ain't forget 
(oh, Jesus)
I woke up drunk at ten, 
We gonna do this shite again
Tell your girl to bring a friend 
(oh, Mary, Jesus, and Moses)

One, here comes the two, 
To the three to the four
Tell 'em "Bring another round, 
We need plenty more"
Irish jiggin' on the table, 
She don't need a dance floor
Oh my, good God

Someone pour me up 
A double shot of gin juice 
(double shot of gin juice)
They know me and a G and T, 
Got a thorough history 
(way back)
There's a party downtown 
Near Oxford Street 
(okay, let's go)

Everybody at the pub 
Gettin' hammered 
(at the pub gettin' wasted)

Everybody at the pub 
Gettin' hammered 

One, here comes the two, 
To the three to the four
When it's last call, 
And they kick us out the door
It's gettin' kind of late, 
But me ladies want some more
Oh my, good God 
(tell 'em drinks are on the Royal Queen, who's living in a fuckin' palace, 
with 775 bloody.......

Someone pour me up a 
Double shot of bourbon 
(double shot of bourbon)
They know me and the bourbon 
Got a hell of a history 
(way back)
There's a party downtown 
Near Oxford Street 
(come on)

Everybody at the pub 
Gettin' hammered 
(whoo-ooh)
I'm plastered

Someone pour me up a 
Double shot of British Royal Navy Rum 
(double shot of British Royal Navy Rum)
They know me and 
British Royal Navy Rum got a history 
(it's fifty pounds a bottle, you wanker)
At the bottom of a bottle, 
Don't miss me 
(ya' tossers don't miss me)

Everybody at the pub 
Gettin' hammered 
At the pub gettin' slizzard

Everybody at the pub 
Gettin' plastered
Everybody at the pub 
Gettin' hammered 

That's bloody fuckin' messed up, mate.
They kicked me out of the goddamn pub.

What's the matter with these ,
Plonkers and Twits?...
Dear Jesus, Mary, and Joseph

{British Shaboozy walks outside the pub, gets in a cab, then searches for a new pub to get rehammered, replastered and slizzard all over again}




HAMMERED (A Pub Song) / British Shaboozy

En tant que passionner de la musique afro américaines, je suis souvent tombé sur des reprises ou des chansons fortement influencées par Michael Jackson. J'ai donc pris le temps d'en compiler quelques-unes pour vous. J'ai exclusivement sélectionné des enregistrements des années 1980, probablement les plus pertinents, la période n'étant pas si éloignée de l'enregistrement original. Je vous promets que de superbes chansons en sont issues, dans des styles très variés.
Certains pourraient se demander quel lien existe avec la chanson « Love Never Felt So Good ». Michael Jackson l'a publiée à titre posthume en 2014, notamment en duo avec Justin Timberlake. La chanson a été composée par Michael Jackson et Paul Anka en 1983 et enregistrée uniquement sous forme de démo. La version de Johnny Mathis de 1984 est donc la première sortie de la chanson, bien qu'il s'agisse d'une reprise de Michael Jackson.

Tracklist
Lou Rawls - The Lady In My Life (1984)
Miles Davis - Human Nature (1985)
Maynard Ferguson - Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough (1982)
Johnny Mathis - Love Never Felt So Good (1984)
Nashville Rhythm Section - Rock With You (1981)
Geno Jordan - Thriller (1983)
Lydia Murdock - Superstar (1983)
T. Ski Valley - Valley Style (1983)
Robert Lowe - The Girl Is Mine (1986)
José Feliciano - I Wanna Be Where You Are (1981)
Max Greger - I Just Can't Stop Loving You (1988)
Ed Watson Brass Circle - You Wanna Be Starting Something (1985)
Springbok - Billy Jean (1983)
Nika Rejto - Billie Jean (1984)
Yarenys - Thriller (1984)
Sandy Kerr - (I'm) Billy Jean (1984)
"Weird Al" Yankovic - Eat It (1984)


The 80s Michael Jackson's Musical Covers

track originally by djt0b3 (@imaybeasalmon), reuploaded with permission

WHITE AND NERDY

14-year-old Colton Stanley (KID A), and his younger brother (Yung Bra), saw a mountain of dirty dishes as the ultimate enemy. The soapy water, the soggy food bits—it was a nightmare. They'd much rather be on their PlayStations, lost in a new game, or kicking a soccer ball around with their buds at the park. Their mom, however, was unyielding. "Boys," she'd say, "these aren't going to wash themselves." They'd try everything to get out of it, from claiming they had too much homework to bargaining for an extra week of chores, but she always stood her ground. To them, the dishes were the one thing standing between them and absolute freedom, an endless pile of rebellion they just couldn't win.... so they quit, yo.

--------------------

"QUIT'N DISH'N"
KID A Journal Entry
Aug. 14, 2025


Yo… I had plans, man.
Controller in my hand, Wi-Fi on demand,
Button-mashin’ battles, Fortnite on the stand,
Maybe bike ride, maybe TV, maybe just nap,
But nah—Mom drops the bomb: “Get your hands in the tap.”
Man, I’d rather count ceiling cracks ‘til I die,
Than scrub somebody else’s spaghetti pie.
I just wanna lay in bed, let the day float by,
Instead I’m sink-deep in my own alibi.


Pick up a plate—great, now it’s slick like slime,
Looks like it’s been here since two thousand and nine,
Chunk of mystery meat—what even is that?
Feels like it bit back when I poked it with the spat.
Water scaldin’ hot, then it’s ice-cube cold,
Suds up my sleeves like they’re ten years old,
Forks with gunk wedged tight like ancient glue,
Spoon lookin’ like it survived a barbecue.
And don’t get me started on the glass with the ring,
Who drank milk, left it out—man, that’s a crime scene thing.


I don’t wanna do these dishes, no, no, no,
Every cup, every bowl, every fork—oh no,
Rather be anywhere else, but here I go,
Scrubbin’ like my life’s a low-budget show.
I don’t wanna do these dishes, no, no, no,
But I’m stuck in the soap, in the suds, in the flow,
Every plate’s a boss fight, I just can’t cope,
Yeah, I’m losin’ my mind—pass me the dish soap.


Nah, nah, nah—this is torture disguised as a chore,
Like a war on my hands, man, a germ-spore war,
Got sludge in the sponge, got slime in the sink,
Every time I touch somethin’ I stop, gag, think:
“Why me? Why here? Why this filth, right now?”
Whole kitchen smell like a dead cow’s pow-wow,
I’m scrappin’ at a skillet that could break my wrist,
Like I’m fightin’ Excalibur—if it smelled like fish.
Grease fight back, man, it laughs in my face,
Soap slip-slides like it’s tryin’ to escape,
My brain’s in a rage, my patience a ghost,
Every sud-bubble pop just makin’ me roast.
Drip-drip, on my socks, now the floor’s my foe,
I’m skatin’ in spaghetti juice—yo, this is low,
Knives in the water like sharks in a tank,
One wrong move, now my hand’s in the bank.
I’m elbow-deep in the muck, and I’m losin’ my grip,
Whole process slower than a Netflix clip,
I’m a prisoner here, I can’t break free,
This ain’t dishwashing—it’s dishwashing me.


I don’t wanna do these dishes, no, no, no,
Every cup, every bowl, every fork—oh no,
Just touching the yuck, now my fingers are stuck,
I’m scrubbing this crud and I’m runnin’ outta luck.
I don’t wanna do these dishes, no, no, no,
But I’m stuck in the soap, in the suds, in the flow,
Every plate’s a boss fight, I just can’t cope,
Yeah, I’m losin’ my mind—pass me the dish soap.


WHY IS THIS MY JOB?!
I didn’t make that stew!
I didn’t eat that pie!
I didn’t pour that goo!
I’m a prisoner of porcelain, chained to the sud,
Hands in the trenches, elbow-deep in crud!


Thirty minutes later, sink’s squeaky and bare,
I’m sweaty, I’m tired, and soap’s in my hair,
I grab my controller, I slump in my chair—
…and Mom says, “Good job, now take out the trash.”
...man, I quit!

-KID A 
take care Yung Bra!
🤗 
-----------



QUIT'N DISH'N (feat. KID A & Yung Bra)

LYRICS:
As I walk through the valley 
Of the shadow of death
I take a look at my life 
And realize there's nothin' left
'Cause I've been blastin' 
And laughin' so long that
Even my momma thinks 
That my mind is gone

But I ain't never crossed a man 
That didn't deserve it
Me be treated like a punk
You know that's unheard of

You better watch how you talkin' 
And where you walkin'
Or you and your homies 
Might be lined in chalk

I really hate to trip
But I gotta lo'c
As they croak
I see myself in the pistol smoke
Fool, I'm the kinda G
The little homies wanna be like
On my knees in the night
Sayin' prayers in the streetlight

Been spendin' most their lives
Livin' in a gangster's paradise
Been spendin' most their lives
Livin' in a gangster's paradise
Keep spendin' most our lives
Livin' in a gangster's paradise
Keep spendin' most our lives
Livin' in a gangster's paradise

Look at the situation 
They got me facing
I can't live a normal life
I was raised by the street
So I gotta be down 
With the hood team
Too much television watchin'
Got me chasing dreams

I'm a educated fool 
With money on my mind
Got my ten in my hand 
And a gleam in my eye
I'm a loc'd out gangster
Set trippin' banger
And my homies is down
So don't arouse my anger

Fool, death ain't nothin' 
But a heart beat away
I'm livin' life do or die
What can I say?
I'm 23 now 
But will I live to see 24?
The way things is going...
I don't know

Tell me why are we so blind to see
That the ones we hurt are you and me?

Been spendin' most their lives
Livin' in a gangster's paradise
Been spendin' most their lives
Livin' in a gangster's paradise
Keep spendin' most our lives
Livin' in a gangster's paradise
Keep spendin' most our lives
Livin' in a gangster's paradise

Power and the money
Money and the power
Minute after minute
Hour after hour
Everybody's runnin'
But half of them ain't lookin'
It's going on in the kitchen
But I don't know what's cookin'

They say I gotta learn
But nobody's here to teach me
If they can't understand it
How can they reach me?
I guess they can't
I guess they won't

I guess they front
That's why I know 
My life is out of luck, fool

Been spendin' most their lives
Livin' in a gangster's paradise
Been spendin' most their lives
Livin' in a gangster's paradise
Keep spendin' most our lives
Livin' in a gangster's paradise
Keep spendin' most our lives
Livin' in a gangster's paradise

Tell me why are we so blind to see
That the ones we hurt are you and me?
Tell me why are we so blind to see
That the ones we hurt are you and me?

---------------------------



PARADISE (feat. Sista-C)

a message from FAT SKOOBILY CAT, written just before he hurt his groin...

-----
Meow! Scoobly Cat in the house
Scoobalee, scoobalee Scoo-ba-dee-DOO!  

I am a fat SKOOBILY cat  
My jeans are too tight  
But I can still scat  

And while I am  
Just a fat SKOOBILY cat  
I can spin skoobily rhythms  
What do you think about that?  

Listen to me  
While I say these words  
I be chasing a mouse  
And a couple birds  

I am your SKOOBILY cat  
You're Skoonily dooblee fat cat  
What do you think about me  
What do you think about that? 

Skoobalee-doobalee, bap bap bah,  
Meow-bah-doo-wah, scoonily sha!  
Ratta-tat-tat with a paw-paw pat,  
I’m a scoobily, doobily, fat-cat scat!  

Sha-ba-da-meeow, sha-ba-da-boo,  
Skoobily-skoobily, coming for you!  
Nibble on kibble and a doodle-doo snack,  
Skoonily-roonily, jazzin’ the track!  

Bop-bop, skoobily-pop, 
Wah-doo-zat,  
Brrrapa-da meow
I’m your Scoobly Cat!  

Scoobalee-doobalee, dap dap dee,  
Mrrrow-wow-zoo-wah, scoonily me!  
Tappa-tap-tap with a flip-flop hat,  
I’m a skoobily, doobily, 
Jazz-cat scat!  

Sha-ba-da-purr, sha-ba-da-plink,  
Skoobily-skoobily, quick as a wink!  
Nibble on kibble and a doodle-doo bite,  
Skoonily-roonily, 
Swingin’ all night!  

Dop-dop, skoobily-hop, wah-dee-dat,  
Rrrrapa-da mrrrow, 
I’m your Scoobly Cat!  

Scoobalee-doobalee, zap-zap-zoo,  
Sha-ba-da-ba-doodle, skibby-dee-doo!  
Flip-flop, tippa-tap, bop-bop-bat,  
I’m a skoobily, doobily, fat-cat scat

Scoobiddy-woobiddy, flabba-da-flap,  
Dabba-da-gabba-da, scoonily-slap!  
Wibble-dee, wobble-dee, 
Dribble-dee, splat—  
Oh no, I—skooblee—gahhh—
What was that??  

Brrrapa-da-blobba-da, Skiddlee-SKRAAAT!!  

Scoobiddy-bop… Skoodle-dee-
Waaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!…  

I’m done. 
Get me off the stage.  
I think I hurt my g-r-o-i-n.

--------------------






FAT SKOOBILY CAT

This track reimagines Cake’s 2001 cult hit “Short Skirt/Long Jacket” as a wild, pop punk anthem told through the eyes of a queer squirrel. Skanky guitars, hammered percussion, and desperate vocals collide in absurd, chaotic, animalistic energy
-----
LYRICS:
-----
I want a squirrel 
With a mind like a diamond
I want a squirrel 
Who knows what's best

I want a squirrel 
With shoes that cut
And eyes that burn 
Like cigarettes

I want a squirrel 
With the right allocations
Who's fast and thorough
And sharp as a tack

She's playing with her jewelry
And pushing up her tail
She's touring the facility
And picking up slack

I want a squirrel 
With a short skirt
And a loooong jacket

I want a squirrel who gets up early
I want a squirrel who stays up late
I want a squirrel with prosperity
Who uses a machete 
To cut through red tape
With nails that shine like justice
And a voice that's dark like tinted glass

She's fast and thorough
And sharp as a tack
She's touring the facility
And picking up slack

I want a squirrel with a short skirt
And a loooong jacket

Nuts, acorns
We're running up that tree
Nuts, acorns
Baby, you and me

Nuts
With nuts
Running up that tree

Nuts, with nuts
We'll have babies
You and me

I want a squirrel with a smooth liquidation
I want a squirrel with a good dividend
At Citibank we'll meet accidentally
And start to talk when she borrows my pen

She wants a car 
With a cupholder armrest
She wants a car 
That will get her there
She's changing her name 
From Kitty to Karen
And trading her MG for a 
White Chrysler LeBaron

I want a squirrel with a short skirt
And a loooong jacket

Nuts, acorns
We're running up that tree
Nuts, acorns
Baby, you and me

Nuts
With nuts
Running up that tree
Nuts, with nuts
We'll have babies
You and me

Yes babies
You and me

Nuts!

-----

HORNY SKIRTED SQUIRREL

A parody of He's Gump, which parodied She's Lump

He's Trump

LYRICS:
Sunset paintin’ on a two-lane road  
FM dial’s playin’ songs we know  
Cooler packed with ice-cold cans  
Boots kick dust while the party stands  

I’m a cowboy with a pickup truck  
Got my horse in the back  
My shotgun on a rack  
And my girl is back at home  

Bakin’ cookies for the crew  
That is what we do  
In the deep, deep country!  

Tailgate glow where the bonfire burns  
High school rings and them Friday turns  
Wrangler’d knees with the mud kicked on  
Singin’ loud to a Luke Bryan song  

I’m a cowboy with a pickup truck  
Got my horse in the back  
My shotgun on a rack  
And my girl is back at home  

Bakin’ cookies for the crew  
That is what we do  
In the deep, deep country!  

Back at home she’s rollin’ dough  
Chocolate chips in a small-town glow  
Warm and sweet when the night is through  
Nothin’ tastes better than a batch 
For my beer-buddy crew  

Raise it up for the good old days  
Neon sky and them dirt-road ways  
If you don’t get a little mud on your boots  
You ain’t livin’ like the country roots  

I’m a cowboy with a pickup truck  
Got my horse in the back  
My shotgun on a rack  
And my girl is back at home  

Bakin’ cookies by the tray  
Passin’ ‘em around all day  
That’s the heart, that’s the truth  
Of the deep, deep country!  

Warm cookies
Cold beer and a dirt road
Deep… deep… country.

------------------




COUNTRY TRUTH | BRYAN LUKEZACH (an alternative country-brother novelty tune)

A Welcome to East Manure, Tennessee — Gay Chicken Capital of the Globe... Home of Kenneth & Dolly Rogers and true country love
------
LYRICS:
------
Well the tractors all rust
And the barns lean south
You can taste the manure 
Every time you open your mouth 

But out in the coop 
There’s a secret I found
A rainbow of feathers 
Where the best eggs are bound

Welcome to East Manure, Tennessee
Where the cows are hot  
The girls ice cold  
That smelly blue cheese  
Is covered in green mold  

When I grow up  
I want the farmers to say  

That they like my fresh tractor  
And all my chickens are gay  

Now my rooster won’t crow
And the hens won’t fight
They just strut around happy 
Every day and night

Neighbors all laugh
Say, boy you’re insane
But my gay little chickens 
Put the straight ones to shame

Living in East Manure, Tennessee  
Where the cows are hot  
The girls ice cold  
That smelly blue cheese  
Is covered in green mold  

When I grow up  
I want the farmers to say  
That they like my fresh tractor  
And all my chickens are gay  

Now the word got around 
Bout my rainbow-feathered flock

Folks rollin’ into town 
Just to line up at my stock

They swear by the yolk
Say it’s strong as an ox
And they pay me top dollar 
For a dozen in a box

Living in East Manure, Tennessee  
Where the cows are hot  
The girls ice cold  
That smelly blue cheese  
Is covered in green mold  

When I grow up  
I want the farmers to say  
That they like my fresh tractor  
And all my chickens are gay  

Now the mayor cut the ribbon
There’s a sign by the road:  
“East Manure — 
Gay Chicken Capital of the Globe”  
And the tourists all cheer 
With a flap and a squawk,  
Buying omelets at sunrise
Scrambled eggs by the block

Never thought I’d find love 
In this manure-stained place
Till I saw city sunshine 
With a smile on her face

I came from New York 
With my high heels on
Didn’t plan on a farm
But the money’s 
Too strong

She don’t like the mud
Or the smell in the air

But I love your gay chickens 
And the fortune they share

Now we’re rich off the eggs
But it ain’t just the gold
It’s a love made 
In East Manure, Tennessee 
That’ll never grow old.

--------------------





'East Manure, Tennessee' | The Ballad of Kenneth & Dolly Rogers

World's collide in song... Arnie from Austria on the Yodel, Drago from Russia on the Trololo, while Nem from the Americas spits some bars
------
LYRICS:
------
{Drago & Arnie Improv}

In Soviet sky, we sing, not cry 
Only joy-
My bro!

Yo, I step through the snow 
With a boom and a rhyme
My sneakers crunch beats
My tongue keepin’ time

Drago on the left
Arnie on the right
We gonna’ lift this track 
Like a barbell fight

From Detroit to the Dolomites
I don’t freeze
Got more punchlines 
Than Russian teas
When I spit that flow
It’s glacier clean
No borders in rhythm — 
Just beats between

Yo-de-lay-ee-hoo! (ho!)
Yo-de-lay-ee-hey!
Muscles bounce mountains
Feel the beat sway

Yo-de-lay-ee-hoo! (ha!)
Yo-de-lay-ee-yo!
If you climb too slow
I’ll flex the snow

I yodel for pump
The hills-
They listen

Lo-lo-lo-lo
Yo-de-lay-ho, whoa!
Rap in the valley
And Trololo snow
East meets West
With the bounce below
Three worlds
One laugh — 
Now watch it glow!

Now Drago’s singin’ nonsense
But it’s makin’ me grin
It’s like therapy set to accordion spin
Arnold’s on a hilltop
Breakin’ the ice
While I rhyme about rhythm 
And global spice

No need for war 
When the bass drops twice
We just dance our flags 
Into something nice
You got vodka, schnitzel, burgers, fries —
All together in a beat that never dies

Tempo Increases!

From Moscow to Munich
Detroit to the peak
I connect every language 
When I speak this beat

Got a passport flow
No visa freeze
I’m a run-on rhyme 
With Olympic knees

When the Trololo rolls
And the Yodel blows back
I pivot these syllables
Flip every track

No conflict here
Just microphones truce —
Drop peace like weights 
Til the world breaks loose!

Lo-lo-lo!
Yo-de-lay-ho!
We all on the peak 
And the beat say go

Tro-lo-lo-lo-lo
Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho!
If laughter is language
We all will know!

Comrade Arnold
You yodel good

Yo-de-lay-ee-hoo
I flex, I do
And I rhyme 
Til the peace comes through

Lo-lo-lo-lo
Lo-de-lay-ho, hey!
Rap from the city 
To the snow ballet

Tro-lo-lo-lo
Let the borders fray
One world beat
And we all okay

La-la-la, la-la-la, happiness parade
Yo-de-lay-ee-hoo, my echo made
Three accents, one mic, we ain’t afraid —
It’s a global groove 
Un-fade, un-fade

Tro-lo-lo-lo
Yo-de-lay-ho
Peace from the mountains
In stereo...

Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho
Mic drop, bro
Bro

-------------








TROLOLO YODEL RAP (feat. Nem, Drago & Arnie)

a reimagining of "Die With a Smile" completely in Pig Latin
------
Pig Latin is a fun way to change English words.
If a word starts with a vowel (a, e, i, o, u) — add “yay” at the end.
👉 apple → appleyay
If a word starts with a consonant — move the first sound to the end and add “ay.”
👉 dog → ogday
------
LYRICS:
------
Ooh  
(Oo-hay)  

I, I just woke up from a dream  
(I-yay, I-yay ust-jay oke-way up-yay om-fray a-yay eam-dray)  

Where you and I had to say goodbye  
(Ere-whay ou-yay and-yay I-yay ad-hay o-tay ay-say oodbye-gay)  

And I don't know what it all means  
(And-yay I-yay on't-day ow-knay at-whay it-yay all-yay eans-may)  

But since I survived, I realized  
(Ut-bay ince-say I-yay urvived-say, I-yay ealized-ray)  

Wherever you go, that's where I'll follow  
(Erever-whay ou-yay o-gay, at-thay's ere-whay I’ll-yay ollow-fay)  

Nobody's promised tomorrow  
(Obody-nay's omised-pray omorrow-tay)  

So I'ma love you every night like it's the last night  
(O-say I’m-a-yay ove-lay ou-yay every-yay ight-nay ike-lay it’s-yay e-thay ast-lay ight-nay)  

Like it's the last night  
(Ike-lay it’s-yay e-thay ast-lay ight-nay)  

If the world was ending, I'd wanna be next to you  
(If-yay e-thay orld-way as-way ending-yay, I’d-yay anna-way e-bay ext-nay o-tay ou-yay)  

If the party was over and our time on Earth was through  
(If-yay e-thay arty-pay as-way over-yay and-yay our-yay ime-tay on-yay Earth-yay as-way ough-thray)  

I'd wanna hold you just for a while and die with a smile  
(I’d-yay anna-way old-hay ou-yay ust-jay or-fay a-yay ile-whay and-yay ie-day ith-way a-yay ile-smay)  

If the world was ending, I'd wanna be next to you  
(If-yay e-thay orld-way as-way ending-yay, I’d-yay anna-way e-bay ext-nay o-tay ou-yay)  

Ooh  
(Oo-hay)  

Ooh, lost, lost in the words that we scream  
(Oo-hay, ost-lay, ost-lay in-yay e-thay ords-way at-thay e-way eam-scray)  

I don't even wanna do this anymore  
(I-yay on’t-day even-yay anna-way o-day is-thay anymore-yay)  

'Cause you already know what you mean to me  
(Ause-cay ou-yay already-yay ow-knay at-whay ou-yay ean-may o-tay e-may)  

And our love's the only war worth fighting for  
(And-yay our-yay ove-lay’s e-thay only-yay ar-way orth-way ighting-fay or-fay)  

Wherever you go, that's where I'll follow  
(Erever-whay ou-yay o-gay, at-thay’s ere-whay I’ll-yay ollow-fay)  

Nobody's promised tomorrow  
(Obody-nay’s omised-pray omorrow-tay)  

So I'ma love you every night like it's the last night  
(O-say I’m-a-yay ove-lay ou-yay every-yay ight-nay ike-lay it’s-yay e-thay ast-lay ight-nay)  

Like it's the last night  
(Ike-lay it’s-yay e-thay ast-lay ight-nay)  

If the world was ending, I'd wanna be next to you  
(If-yay e-thay orld-way as-way ending-yay, I’d-yay anna-way e-bay ext-nay o-tay ou-yay)  

If the party was over and our time on Earth was through  
(If-yay e-thay arty-pay as-way over-yay and-yay our-yay ime-tay on-yay Earth-yay as-way ough-thray)  

I'd wanna hold you just for a while and die with a smile  
(I’d-yay anna-way old-hay ou-yay ust-jay or-fay a-yay ile-whay and-yay ie-day ith-way a-yay ile-smay)  

If the world was ending, I'd wanna be next to you  
(If-yay e-thay orld-way as-way ending-yay, I’d-yay anna-way e-bay ext-nay o-tay ou-yay)  

Right next to you  
(Ight-ray ext-nay o-tay ou-yay)  

Next to you  
(Ext-nay o-tay ou-yay)  

Right next to you  
(Ight-ray ext-nay o-tay ou-yay)  

Oh-oh, oh  
(Oh-oh-yay, oh-yay)  

If the world was ending, I'd wanna be next to you  
(If-yay e-thay orld-way as-way ending-yay, I’d-yay anna-way e-bay ext-nay o-tay ou-yay)  

If the party was over and our time on Earth was through  
(If-yay e-thay arty-pay as-way over-yay and-yay our-yay ime-tay on-yay Earth-yay as-way ough-thray)  

I'd wanna hold you just for a while and die with a smile  
(I’d-yay anna-way old-hay ou-yay ust-jay or-fay a-yay ile-whay and-yay ie-day ith-way a-yay ile-smay)  

[SOUNDCLOUD CHARACTER LIMIT]

---------------------------





Die With a Smile (The Best of Pig Latin Pop)

"Frogs symbolize transformation, emotional healing, intuition, and are associated with personal growth, cleansing, and rebirth."
-----
LYRICS:
------
Croak in the shadows
Coak in the heat
Something’s coming up — 

Frogs in the street
Frogs in the street

Rain hits the pavement
Banners in the sky
Croak for tomorrow
Leap for a lie

Frogs don’t freeze
We rise from the mud
Every ribbit’s a warning
A positive flood

Portland Nights
Got the rhythm
Got the spark

Paint on the walls
Singing loud in the dark

Cycle of change 
In the echo of our feet
Prophecy croaks — 

Frogs in the street

Frogs in the street! 
Rebirth in the riot
Frogs in the street! 
No peace
We won’t quiet

From the mud we leap
From the storm we speak
The sign is alive — 

Frogs in the street!  

Green little prophets on a city block
Croakin’ out freedom
Tickin’ like a clock

Luck in the air
Omens in the rain
Croak against the system
Croak against the chain

They say “law and order"
We say “ribbit, please"  
Comedy strikes harder 
Than gas clouds sting

The future’s am'phibian
You can hear it repeat
A thousand voices — 

Frogs in the street!

ICE… ICE… BABY 
ribbit, ribbit
ICE… ICE… BABY 
ribbit, ribbit
ICE… ICE… BABY 
ribbit, ribbit
ICE… ICE… BABY 

Yo Frog check it
Freaky Frog ribbit
Leap to the mic 
And the crowd gets with it

ICE on patrol
But we hop
Don’t stop
Croakin’ revolution 
On the Portland block

Stop, listen — 
Hear that croak
Truth in the joke 
And the joke is woke

From the pond to the protest
Frogs unite
Comedy’s the weapon 
And the future’s bright

ICE… ICE… BABY ribbit, ribbit 
ICE… ICE… BABY ribbit, ribbit 
ICE… ICE… BABY ribbit, ribbit 

Ribbit real loud
Let the city shake
Rebirth croaks 
Make the power quake
They got cages
But frogs got feet
Leaping over fences — 
Frogs in the street!  

ICE… ICE… BABY
BABY BABY 

Luck’s on our side
Future’s in reach
Croakin’ out wisdom 
That the schools can’t teach

You can’t drown a chorus
Can’t freeze the beat
Better watch your back — 

Frogs in the street!  

Frogs in the street! 
Rebirth in the riot
Frogs in the street! 
No peace
We won’t quiet

From the mud we leap
From the storm we speak
The sign is alive — 

Frogs in the street!  

ICE… ICE… BABY BABY BABY 
ICE… ICE… BABY BABY BABY 
ICE… ICE… BABY BABY BABY 
ICE… ICE… BABY BABY BABY 
ribbit… ribbit
ribbit... ribbit 

Frogs in the street!

ICE… ICE… BABY BABY BABY 

--------------




Frogs in the Street

LYRICS:
Ya ever been so dang country
They had ta put subtitles on ya?
Heh... I reckon I been there

Slide guitar lick
Hat tip
Kick drum stomp

I was born right 
Tween the haybale
n' the tailgate
Mama fryin’ bacon 
On a hubcap plate

Daddy done taught me 
Howta shoot ‘n’ pray
For deer, beer
And a sunny day-ay-ay

My tongue so thick
It’s like cornbread dough
Folks in the city 
Don’t know where it go

Tried orderin’ latte
They look at me strange
Guess they cain’t hang with my 
Double-range twang

Here’s the thang
Got myself dang
Double Country Ultra Twang!  

Boots too loud
Drawl too strong
Even Siri gets me wrong

Can’t explain—  
Double Country Ultra Twang!  
Say it again
Double Country Ultra Twang!

Yeah-
Double 
Country 
Ultra 
Twang

Met a gal from Nashville
Real purdy thang
Took ‘er out dancin’
Bought her chicken wang

I said yee-haw darlin’ 
Lemme hold ya tight
She thought I said 
"Feed dog at midnight”  

Told her I hunt hogs
She said “you what now?”  
I said “HOG HUNTIN'!” 
She just raised her brow

She gone in a flash 
Like a dust-trail rang
Guess she can’t hang 
With my double twang

Here’s the thang
Got myself dang
Double Country Ultra Twang!  

Shotgun shine
Moonshine rain
Dip in the lip
Keep the truck in lane

Can't explain—  
Double Country Ultra Twang
Uh-huh
Double Country Ultra Twang

Yeah buddy, crank it!  
Time to make fried bacon
Time to make some fried bacon
Time to make some fried bacon

Yeah buddy, crank it!  
Time to make fried bacon
Time to make some fried bacon
Daddy wore spurs on his weddin’ day
Mama rode bulls ‘fore she learned to pray 
Born with a hat an’ a fiddle string vein
I talk like a porch swing in a hurricane

Yeah buddy, crank it!
Can’t spell “subtle” 
Can’t say “plain”  
Got diesel in my middle name

So when they ask where I came
I say Double… Country
Ultra… TWANG!

Here’s the thang
Got myself dang
Double Country Ultra Twang!  

Too much drawl for the radio rang
Too much slang for a city thang

If y’all don’t get what I’m tryna sang —  
You just ain’t country enough to hang
Yeah, that’s right!

Double
Country
Ultra
TWAAAAANG!

Double... double
Country... ultra
Double... country
Ultra 
TWAAAAANG!

------------




Double Country Ultra Twang

weird Al breakcore flip

watch the music video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iNbtAOS_qZM
original by "Weird Al" Yankovic

HARDWARE STORE - "Weird Al" Yankovic【Kasane Teto 重音テト SV Cover】

SOURCES:
Coolio - Gangsta's Paradise [Parody'd artists]
Alabama 3 - Woke Up This Morning [HBO]
"Weird Al" Yankovic - Lasagna [Weird Al/Italy]
Bruce Springsteen - Born to Run [Jersey]

MOBSTER'S PARADISE [Grand Finals]

alt acc to post stuff ive made that isnt important or that has been deleted

new account. old one got banned
RIP TO THE 500 FOLLOWERS :(
...
(i will be slowly re-uploading the best of my tracks, sadly cant upload all again, i am now once again restricted to the default soundcloud account.)
...
however, my full discography, in all its glory, is and forever will be up on my bandcamp page. (see link below)

From 1980 to 1992, I set Belgian nights alight behind the decks of legendary clubs—Spicy, Zoo, H₂O, Bush. Under the name Funky Town Brabant, I made dance floors vibrate to the rhythm of Funk, Soul, R&B, slow jams... There, music wasn't just a sound, it was a fever, a memory, a way of existing.

SINCERE IMPOSTER is an intimate collection of artists exploring a curious mixture of New Wave, Dance, EDM, Folk Rock, Metal, Art Pop, Electro, Dreamwave, and Experimental World Pop. Collectively, this is known as QUIRKPOP — music that pushes the creative limits of traditional pop.

Expect an unpredictable journey through sound, emotion, and humor, where genres collide and pop bends in strange new ways. Each song is conceived, composed, and performed with total sincerity, whether it’s built from voices, instruments, software, or hybrid experimentation. The focus is on the music itself: if it resonates, it resonates. No explanation required.

SINCERE IMPOSTER is curated by two musicians, both living within the same body, sharing a singular existence. They identify as Danielle & Dave. They are both psychologically and musically confused, yet extremely and unapologetically sincere.

Influences range from Weird Al and Nathan Fielder to David Lynch, Rosalia, Monatik, Atarashii Gakko!, Rammstein, T-Pain, and T-Swift. 

Danielle & Dave’s favorite inventions include the vacuum and the peach pitter. Their father is simply known as Vessel… who may be an entity or a god.


New tracks tagged #Weird Al