It’s gonna end how you expected, girl,
You’re such a masochist,
And I ask, Why?
And you reply…
I like the thrill…
Nothing’s gonna make me feel this real.
The Weeknd……..XO.
Kesha.
Or, pardon me: “Ke$ha.”
I guess her song “TiK ToK” just became the biggest single week selling song for a female artist? Or some other ad hoc category like that? Now, here is the problem: the lyrics. I can handle nonstop forgettable beats — you know, the kind where you’re thinking, “Is this Rihanna? Or Britney? Or maybe it’s Miley…NO WAIT! It’s that Ke$ha girl!” I can handle that. But as a writer, when someone begins spitting lyrics that really should have been scrapped and only rediscovered in dumpsters, and then that song becomes a hit, AJ GROWS CONCERNED.
Let us read, with my commentary inserted here or there:
“Wake up in the morning feeling like P Diddy
^What the fuck does this mean? Does it mean you want to use Proactive first thing to keep your situation sexy? I’m confused. Great start, Ke$ha.
(Hey, what up girl?)
Put my glasses on, I’m out the door - I’m gonna hit this city (Let’s go)
Before I leave, brush my teeth with a bottle of Jack
^Well that’s just gross.
Cause when I leave for the night, I ain’t coming back
I’m talking - pedicure on our toes, toes
Trying on all our clothes, clothes
Boys blowing up our phones, phones
Drop-toping, playing our favorite cds
Pulling up to the parties
Trying to get a little bit tipsy
[CHORUS]
Don’t stop, make it pop
DJ, blow my speakers up
Tonight, I’mma fight
‘Til we see the sunlight
Tick tock, on the clock
But the party don’t stop no
Woah-oh oh oh
Woah-oh oh oh
[Chorus]
Ain’t got a care in world, but got plenty of beer
^Potential sign of alcoholism: brushes teeth with hard alcohol, doesn’t have a care in the world because there’s beer. Just sayin’.
Ain’t got no money in my pocket, but I’m already here
^Guess there wasn’t a cover.
Now, the dudes are lining up cause they hear we got swagger
^Imagining this is funny. Or, maybe they are lining up because you’re drunk as a skunk.
But we kick ‘em to the curb unless they look like Mick Jagger
What Mick Jagger looks like: 
She’s 22. Okay.
I’m talking about - everybody getting crunk, crunk
^Ubiquitous: YEAH!!!
Boys trying to touch my junk, junk
^Fergie is that you?
Gonna smack him if he getting too drunk, drunk
^You still have hand eye coordination at this point? Kudos.
Now, now - we goin’ til they kick us out, out
Or the police shut us down, down
Police shut us down, down
Po-po shut us -“
And cue a minute or two of repeating the same few lines over and over again.
This whole situation is just depressing. And to make matters worse, she’s the young, new celeb that is repping the Valley — I WANT ANOTHER AMBASSADOR. And, sadly, though the lyrics are completely superficial and at times obnoxious (she sings them with this strange attitude behind her voice that just makes me want to punch my stereo), it pretty much describes the Valley party scene to a T.
Brighter side: she gives us gems like this…
Ke$ha, too much Jack?!
