Based on popular demand, I’m giving this drek the same treatment as Boom Boom Pow. Enjoy.

Wake up in the mornin'
Feeling like P-Diddy

Wishful thinking.

I stand corrected.

Maybe the city will hit back.

[[Let's go]]
Before I leave
Brush my teeth with a
Bottle of Jack

Alcoholism is awesome!

Cause when I leave for
The night I ain't coming back

Promise?

I'm talking pedicure on our toes (toes)
Tryin' on all our clothes (clothes)

Ten points for not rhyming toes with hoes.

Boys blowin' up our phones (phones)
Drop topping, playing our favorite CD's
Pulling up to the parties
Tryin' a get a little bit TIPSY

That Jack wore off quickly.

Don't Stop
Make it Pop
DJ blown my speakers up

One may be tempted to complain about the auto-tune saturation here, but it’s an honest improvement over the hell-harpy noises in the segments without it.

Tonight I'ma fight
Till we see the sunlight
Tick tock on the clock
But the party don't stop

It is the never-ending party, from which there is no escape. You are trapped, forced to dance for all time by beings beyond man’s comprehension. Nothing but death can end their cruel entertainment. But death never comes.

No oh, oh oo whoa oo whoa oh
Oh oo whoa oo whoa oh
Oh oo whoa oo whoa oh

This is by far the deepest part of the song.

Ain't got a care in the world
But got plenty of BEER

This is why the terrorists hate us.

Ain't got no money in my pocket

I can sympathize. Jack is expensive for the budding auto-tune delivery mannequin.

But I'm already here
And now the dudes are lining up
Cause they hear we got swagger
But we kick em to the curb
Unless they look like Mick Jagger

I'm talkin' bout
Everybody getting crunk (crunk)
Boys try to touch my junk (junk)
Gonna smack em if they’re gettin' too drunk (drunk)

Somehow, I can’t imagine it being that hard to get at her junk. Then again, I could be wrong. She could be the type that drinks Jack Daniels first thing in the morning, herds men, lives entirely through parties, and remains a chaste virgin. And I could be a talking dog.

Night night we going to kick this out (out)
The police shut us down (down)
Police shut us down (down)
Po-po shut us (DOWN)

I think there’s an echo in here (here).

Don't Stop
Make it Pop
DJ blown my speakers up
Tonight I'ma fight
Till we see the sunlight

Imagine the whole song as the life of a woman in a fight club. Suddenly, it’s several times more entertaining.

Tick tock on the clock
But the party don't stop
No oh, oh oo whoa oo whoa oh
Oh oo whoa oo whoa oh
Oh oo whoa oo whoa oh

Have I finally been driven mad, or do the “Oh’s” in this song sound like some sort of auto-tuned parody of whale song? I may need to seek help.

Don't Stop
Make it Pop
DJ blown my speakers up
Tonight I'ma fight
Till we see the sunlight

Is it too late to take you up on the fight? My roommate has a mean right hook.

Tick tock on the clock
But the party don't stop
No oh, oh oo whoa oo whoa oh
Oh oo whoa oo whoa oh
Oh oo whoa oo whoa oh

You build me up
You break me down

Mostly the latter.

My heart it pounds
Yeah you got me
With my hands up
You got me now

Okay, I’ve got you. Now how do I get rid of you? It’s like the radio is possessed. I’ve even dunked mine in holy water.

You got that sound
Yea you got me
You build me up
You break me down
My heart it pounds

Sounds like a heart problem, you should look into that. After you seek help and detox from all that Jack, of course.

Yea you got me
With my hands up
Put your hands up
Put your hands up
(Uuuuppp!)

I was uncertain the first time you told me to put my hands up, and the second time I refused out of spite, but the third “up” really convinced me. Kudos.

Now the party don't start till I walk in...

This is an actual law. In Southern California, it is illegal to gather more than ten drunken idiots in any room without Keesha’s signed approval.

Don't Stop
Make it Pop
DJ blown my speakers up
Tonight I'ma fight
Till we see the sunlight
Tick tock on the clock

This easily makes my personal top ten list for “most awkward musical title drops”.

But the party don't stop
No oh, oh oo whoa oo whoa oh
Oh oo whoa oo whoa oh
Oh oo whoa oo whoa oh

The “no” sound at the end of the chorus is actually your speakers begging for mercy. Fun fact.

Don't Stop
Make it Pop
DJ blown my speakers up
Tonight I'ma fight
Till we see the sunlight
Tick tock on the clock
But the party don't stop
No oh, oh oo whoa oo whoa oh
Oh oo whoa oo whoa oh
Oh oo whoa oo whoa oh

Oh hell, the chorus repeats again? There’s only so much I can do people. Humorist or not, I'm a mere mortal and there are only so many punch lines that can be dragged out of some harlot making an "oh" sound over and over again. Wait..I might be missing something.

There, Kesha’s (I will be rent apart by the hounds of hell before I put the dollar sign in her stage name) memetic abomination is done. I suppose this is what I deserve for taking requests.

Can we carpet bomb all coastal dance clubs and end this? It shouldn't violate the Geneva Convention if a nation attacks itself.

1/25/2010