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Rubbish, piffle, tommyrot, drivel and utter bilge

Saturday, September 3, 2011

Come Back Willow Smith, All Is Forgiven

Folks, as you know, I am always on the lookout for new and interesting talent. Previously on these pages we have discussed the delights of Tinie Tempah, Willow Smith and Dizzee Rascal, but I was alerted yesterday by my dear sister to a song that, once I heard it and dissected its lyrical genius, nay, poetic beauty, I felt I simply must share with a waiting world. Folks, I was stunned. Gobsmacked. Taken somewhat aback. (CAUTION: SARCASM ALERT!!)


The disc in question is one by that purveyor of pulchritudinous pouting, one Miss Nicki Minaj and features the wonderful wordsmith Mr. Eminem. The tune itself is curiously entitled "Roman's Revenge".


My sister alerted me to this after witnessing some young preteenyboppers prancing around to said platter on a kids' dance show, and became perturbed by the chorus, which apparently had something to do with feeling 'like a dungeon dragon'. 


Now, I have heard of the game Dungeons and Dragons, and as I recall, the dragons don't actually inhabit the dungeons. Or do they? Have to go and check. .... dum de dum... la la la... nope. Can't find anything that says that. Undoubtedly out there in  geekdom, somebody will jump all over this and tell me who and what lives in which dungeon where, but this is irrelevant and getting us off track.


Anyway, on to the lyrics. They are without doubt the wor... well, I'll let you decide for yourself.



I am not Jasmine, I’m Aladdin
So far ahead, these bums is laggin’
See me in that new thing, bums is gaggin’
I’m startin’ to feel like a dungeon dragon
Raah, raah, like a dungeon dragon
I’m startin’ to feel like a dungeon dragon
Look at my show footage, how these girls be spazzin’
So f**k I look like gettin’ back to a has-been?
Yeah, I said it, has-been
Hang it up, flatscreen
(Haha) Plasma
Hey Nicki, hey Nicki, asthma
I got the pumps, it ain’t got medicine
I got bars, sentencin'
I’m a bad bitch, I’m a c**t   Charming young lady!
And I’ll kick that hoe, punt
Forced trauma, blunt
You play the back, b***h, I’m in the front
You need a job, this ain’t cuttin’ it
Nicki Minaj is who you ain’t f***in’ with
You li’l brag a lot, I beat you with a pad-a-lock This is utter genius at work folks!
I am a movie, camera block
You outta work, I know it’s tough
But enough is enough

Raah, raah, like a dungeon dragon
Raah, raah, raah, like a dungeon dragon
Raah, raah, raah, like a dungeon dragon
Like a dungeon dragon, like a dungeon dragon

Raah, raah, raah, like a dungeon dragon
Raah, raah, raah, like a dungeon dragon
Raah, raah, raah, like a dungeon dragon
Like a dungeon dragon, like a dungeon dragon

Then Slim Shady drops in to say a few words, most of them rather fruity and quite pervy.

I ain’t into S&M, but my whip’s off the chain
A little drop of candy paint drips off the frame
Twisted-a** mind, got a pretzel for a brain
An eraser for a head, f***in’ pencil for a frame
You don’t like it then peel off, b***h
Every last woman on Earth I’ll kill off, and I still wouldn’t f@%k you, slut  He's single, girls!
So wipe the smile on your grill off, I swear to God I’ll piss a Happy Meal off
Get the wheels turnin’, spin, and wheel off
Snap the axel in half, bust the tie-rod
Quit hollerin’ “Why, God?” He ain’t got s$&t to do wit' it
Bygones’ll never be bygones, so won’t be finished swallowin’ my wad
I ain’t finished blowin’ it, nice bra
Hope it’ll fit a tough titty, b***h
Life’s hard, I swear to God, life is a dumb blonde white broad
With fake t**s and a bad dye job
Who just spit in my f***in’ face and called me a f***in’ tightwad
So finally I broke down and bought her an iPod
And caught her stealin’ my music, so I tied her arms and legs to the bed

He then gets even more peculiar. The faint of heart should not proceed.


Set up the camera and p***ed twice on her
Look, two pees and a tripod!
The moral to the story is, life’s treatin’ you like dry sod?
Kick it back in its face, my God
It’s Shady and Nicki Minaj, you might find the sight quite odd
But don’t ask why, bitch (Ask why not)

The wo-world is my punchin’ bag and
If I’m garbage, you’re a bunch of maggots
Make that face, go on, scrunch it up at me
Show me the target so I can lunge and attack it

Like a, raah, raah, like a dungeon dragon
You fell off, off, they musta bumped your wagon
You musta went off the back, I’m ’bout to go off the deep end
I told you to stay in your lane, you just choked in traffic

At this point it is almost a relief that Nicki Minger returns.

(I-I-I-I-Is) Is this the thanks that I get for puttin’ you b****es on?
Is it my fault that all of you b****es gone?
Shoulda sent a thank-you note, you little ho
Now I’ma wrap your coffin with a bow
(Ni-ni-ni) “Nicki, she’s just mad ’cause you took the spot”
Word, that b***h mad ’cause I took the spot?
Well, b***h, if you ain’t sh****n’, then get off the pot
Got some n****s out in Brooklyn that’ll off your top
I-I-I-I hear them mumblin’, I hear the cacklin’
I got ‘em scared, shook, panickin’
Overseas, church, Vatican
You at a stand, still, mannequin
You wanna sleep on me? Overnight?
I’m the m****f***in’ boss, overwrite
And when I pull up, vroom, motorbike
Now all my ***** gettin’ bucked, overbite
I see them dusty-a** Filas, Levi’s
Raggedy-a%&, holes in your knee-highs
I call the play, now do you see why?
These b@&$%es callin’ me Manning, Eli
(Manning, Eli!) Ma, ma-ma-ma-ma, Manning, Eli
These b****es callin’ me (Manning, Eli)

Here comes Marshall Mathers again. Look out.

A-a-a-a-all you li’l f*$£@ts can suck it
No homo, but I’ma stick it to ‘em like refrigerator magnets
And I’m crooked enough to make straitjackets bend
Yeah, look who’s back again, b***h, keep actin’ as if
You have the same passion that I have
Yeah, right, still hungry, my a**
You a**d**ks had gastric bypass
Ain’t hot enough to set fire to dry grass
And ’bout as violent as hair on eyelids (Eyelash!)
Go take a flyin’ leap of faith off a f***in’ balcony
‘Fore I shove a falcon wing up your fly a**
You know what time it is, so why ask?
When Shady and Nicki’s worlds clash
It’s (high class) meets (white trash)

Raah, raah, like a dungeon dragon
Raah, raah, raah, like a dungeon dragon
Raah, raah, raah, like a dungeon dragon
Like a dungeon dragon, like a dungeon dragon

Raah, raah, raah, like a dungeon dragon
Raah, raah, raah, like a dungeon dragon
Raah, raah, raah, like a dungeon dragon
Like a dungeon dragon, like a dungeon dragon

Grown men! Grown men!
Stop it, stop it!
You’ve gone mad, mad, I tell you, mad!
You and this boy Slim Shady!
What’s goin’ on?
They’ll lock you away!
They’ll put you in a jail cell!
I promise!
Take your mother’s warning, Roman
Pleaaaaaaase
Back to bed! Run along!
Let’s go! Come on!
Wash your mouth out with soap, boys
(Boys, boys, boys, boys, boys, boys…)


Surely I am not the only one who is slightly perturbed by all of this? There are so many questions raised here. What's a dungeon dragon? And what the hell did any of that actually mean? And I think most important of all, why was it being played on a kids' dance show with all those expletives in it? Who is Roman? And why is it that the delightful Mr. Em wants to pee on people and put parts of birds up their bottoms? This is not normal by any stretch of the imagination, and some people go to therapists for less. Still curious about this song? Here it is in all its bizarre weird tune-free sweary-up dragon-ness, if you aren't queasy enough yet.


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