Sunday, April 4, 2010

ICP: A Lyrical Analysis

Happy Easter, everyone. I am not particularly religious or anything, but I do like the image of a giant bunny going around and leaving chocolate eggs for children. I like it way more than the image of a giant bunny constantly getting denied bowls of cereal. Just once can we hook him up? Give the damn rabbit some cereal and he'll realize what we've all realized for years now: Trix isn't that good.

Before I signed on to write for this corner of the internet in blog form, I ran a much smaller one that mostly concentrated on making fun of bad music. I know that musical tastes are relative, and blah blah blah, but some music is undeniably shitty.

Nickelback writes some pretty awful lyrics. “Something In Your Mouth,” is a song about blow jobs and it is about as artistic as one would think. The song “Animals” is about Chad Kroeger having sex in a car with a girl and getting caught mid-coitus by the girl’s parents. This song came off the album All The Right Reasons which came out in 2005. Chad Kroeger was 30 years old then. If Chad Kroeger is still having sex with girls who live with their parents, then someone needs to arrest Chad Kroeger.

There is at least one band that writes worse lyrics than Nickelback, and that would be the Insane Clown Posse. It is not the gruesome nature of their lyrics that bugs me; it has more to do with how their lyrics don’t make sense and are just fucking stupid. There is little to no flow in any of their songs and there aren’t any lessons or messages to take away from an ICP song other than drinking cheap, shitty sodas are cool and the word “anus” is awesome.

To help further my point, I decided to take a closer look at the lyrics of the song “Redneck Hoe” off of ICP’s debut album Carnival of Carnage. I should note that this album received one star out of five possible from Rolling Stone Magazine. Rolling Stone gave Nickelback’s latest effort Dark Horse 3.5 stars out of 5, so one star must be the musical equivalent of getting AIDS.

This song contains incredibly misogynistic lyrics and adult language. If you’re a kid or a member of my family, kindly stop reading here to maintain your pure conscience. Thank you.

“Rapping to this bitch with a red neck/A red neck, that fucking red neck/Rapping to this bitch with a red neck/A down south bitch with a red-ass neck.”

“Bitch, you gotta red neck”

Useless, God-awful trivia to lose friends with: The first five lines of the song “Redneck Hoe” contain the words “red” and “neck” six times. The word or phrase used the second most within these first five lines? Bitch.

My favorite part of this entire song is the fact that the very first line of the first verse is a perfect summary of the introduction. It’s like Cliff Notes for retarded people.

“But you look kinda straight so I’m ‘bout to step/Heard you like fucking in pig pens/You never seen boys, so you fuck your girlfriends.”

I think you’re more likely to find pigs in pig pens than girlfriends in pig pens. She’s probably fucking pigs. Also, be aware that the word “straight” means heterosexual as well being down for something. Understand my confusion stemming from the information given in the first line and how that information is disregarded in the third line.

“Bitch, I know you’s a ho/So let me fuck you with my big toe.”

That seems pleasurable to neither of you. May I recommend Parcheesi?

“Cuz’, I don’t care what them hicks can do/ Shit, I can fuck like a chicken hawk too/ Bitch, we can take a walk.”

(From the perspective of the woman apparently named Bitch): “So, this rapper named Violent J just told me that he fucks like a chicken hawk. I have no idea what that means. But, he said we could go for a walk. After I huff this paint thinner, I’m totally going to blow him.”

That is the best case scenario of using those lines on a real-life woman. Or, it is the worst case scenario. Which one it is depends upon your level of human decency.

“But I hate the way you fuckin’ hillbillies talk/ So keep your filthy ass mouth shut/ And don’t say shit, nasty slut/ Bitch, I wanna hit it/So I can drop your ass in New York minute.”

It takes mighty big cojones to state you hate the vernacular and dialect of an entire group of people right after stating you want to use your toe as a sexual organ and comparing your ability to perform sex to one of these. Also, admitting that you’re going to perform sex and dump the girl in under a minute? A New York minute, no less? Either Violent J doesn’t know what a New York minute is or he pops in five seconds. Both are plausible.

“But you quick to act like you didn’t know.”

Probably not as quick as you, Sparky.

“Like you didn’t know/That I’m a gigolo/You didn’t know.”

Oh, my bad. What an oversight. I should have assumed that a nearly 300 pound man with bleached hair and clown paint on his face 24/7 would be a gigolo. I am so sorry.

“Bitch, we can sit on the porch/ Swing in a chair, I don’t fucking care.”

Yeah! And we can get some lemonade too and shit! Put it in a glass with ice? Hell yeah! I’m crazy, bitch! I don’t give a fuck!

“But then it’s to the sack, to the sack we go/ I’m finna fuck this red neck hoe.”

What happened to the pig pen scenario? Was that too progressive? You’re right, Violent J. Take it slow. Pig pens are a big step in a relationship built upon JNCO jeans and Faygo Cream Soda.

Chorus: “Bitch, you’s a ho/And ho, you’s a bitch/Everybody knows that you’s a…/Funky funky bitch.” (2x)

The chorus of this song needs to be heard to be believed. It sounds like three, monotone kids in throws of puberty harmonizing some of the least creative lyrics ever penned. Stop what you’re doing, listen to this song, and then get back to what you were doing so you don’t end up like ICP. Yeah, they are rich, but they are in ICP. Where’s the fun in that? (If the only thing you were doing was reading this blog entry, I recommend you finish reading it first).

“Rapping to this bitch with a red neck/ A fucking red neck, a red-ass neck/ Rapping to this bitch with a red neck/ Said a mop-top corn stalk red-ass neck.”

Apparently something like this happening once wasn’t enough. They knocked the use of red neck down one less use, but they use “red-ass neck” twice. A red-ass neck sounds like a serious medical condition that requires topical ointment. Although, I’m guessing the guys in ICP all ready have every kind of rash possible, so why the hell would they care?

“Bitch, it’s 2 Dope.”

Oh, God, there’s the other one.

“Before I threw you this dick, I throw you some soap.”

For your ass-neck, baby.

“‘Cuz you been in the barn all day/ Milking cows and fucking with hay.”

I don’t get this band at all. Their initial interest in this girl was from hearing a rumor that she liked to fuck in pig pens. Then they don’t do it. Then, they want to offer soap to this girl after she has been working in a barn? Since when did sanitation matter? You were going to fuck her in a pile of pig shit, swill, and hardtack and now you’re being all coy and offering Dial? Mixed messages, Posse, mixed messages.

“Bitch, if you let me hit/ I don’t care, you can play your Wayne Newton shit/ I can take a little Conway Twitty/While I’m sucking on red neck tittie.”

Does Shaggy 2 Dope know that Wayne Newton has been a lounge singer in Las Vegas for years and he was never a favorite artist of the red neck crowd? I’m guessing no. He probably thought Wayne Newton sounded red neck-ish. He probably also thought that lyric was awesome. I feel safe in assuming, however, that Shaggy 2 Dope is not the first person to suck on a “red neck tittie”[sic] while listening to Conway Twitty. He recommended that his listeners do that in the liner notes of every single one of his albums.

“Bitch, I go down south/ With a piece of wheat hanging out my mouth/And sport a funky-ass straw hat/ But after I hit it…MOTHERFUCK THAT.”

I am….I am speechless.

“Bitch, I from the big city/ And I’m finna fall asleep on your big tittie.”

All right, I’m calling shenanigans. ICP is billed as hailing from Detroit, which is certainly a big city. However, they are really from Oak Park, Michigan, which is a little outside of the city. It is a suburb not unlike the one I live in. They met playing backyard wrestling. Something I did in my suburb. There are farms here. There are farms there. I have never pretended to be a rapper. These two butt plugs did and still do pretend to be rappers.

Secondly, how big does a woman have to be in order to use her “tittie”[sic] as a bed? It is much more reasonable to rest your head on a “tittie” [sic] and even still, a head is a lot bigger than a “tittie” [sic] and I would imagine that it wouldn’t be all the great for your neck, let alone the "tittie" [sic].

“Yeah, it’s the farmer’s daughter/ But I ain’t gonna fuck in no swamp water.”

Well, that seems reasonable. Why would you do that?

“Bitch, drop your overalls/ And we fuck in the back of a horse stall.”

A 12x8 open aired room with a horse and horse shit in it is a much better place to have sex than a swamp. Everyone knows that.

Chorus (2x)

Yay!

“My ratsaw can’t even hang/With the wicked shit you’ve done/You go lynching with your gang/
On a brother or a Mexican.”

Whoa! Time out! Why are we suddenly talking about something serious? I thought this song wasn’t serious. I was basing this on the premise that this song cannot possibly be interpreted seriously.

To be fair, this part of the song is performed by the rapper Esham, an indie rap legend in Detroit. He, for some reason, agreed to be on this song about sweet talking red necks in order to fuck them to talk about his views on bigotry. The transition from banging in a horse stable to talking about lynching seems less than smooth, in my book.

The beat of this song has a loop of the lyrics “fucking bigot” playing in the back ground, as well. When I first heard it, the lyrics sounded like “fucking piggy,” which I think makes more sense in relation to what the song is mostly about. Fucking in pig pens. Don’t get it twisted. The rest of Esham’s part is all about racism and bigotry, and it isn’t funny. Therefore, I am leaving it out.

Bitch, I can’t tell from where I’m at/ But it looks like your neck is red, fuck that/ I’m about to step/
So I can say I fucked a ho with a red neck.”

All right, Violent J. You have spent the ENTIRE song explaining how this girl is a red neck. This song contains the phrase (or variations of the phrase) “red neck,” sixteen goddamn times AND it appears in the song title! But now, you’re all like ‘I am not very sure here….but, I think you might be a red neck.’ You have produced no evidence to suggest that this girl is anything BUT a red neck. On top of that, if you’re so disgusted with this idea, why do you want to fuck this person and then brag about it? You’re the worst person ever.

Predictably, the song ends with the chorus, but they repeat the chorus NINE TIMES! That’d be fine if the chorus were, you know, good. However, the chorus isn’t good, so I think instead of repeating nine times, the producer should have taken the master copy of this song and used it as a urinal cake. That would have been a much more artistic direction to go in.

4 comments:

  1. all i can picture were those kids in highschool who sat at their own lunch table, corner, etc. with their 'attire' consisting of black baggy windpants mind you, hair thats absolutely indesribable, and only wondering why they hate their life so much. maybe bc its the only lyrics they know how to read?

    i dont get it either man.

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  2. I think the word you are looking for those kids in high school is "gugalo"

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  3. Did you mean "juggalo"?

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  4. Pointing out the obviousMay 8, 2011 at 6:23 AM

    Step back for a second and you might notice, this is being sung by fucking clowns! I don't know how so many fail to derive any meaning from that, but ICP is nothing more than comic relief that retards actually take seriously. It's sad that people can enjoy the lyrics at face value, but think about it, a clown is the one advocating everything in this song. When was the last time a clown wanted to be taken seriously? Never. In fact a clown wants exactly the opposite. I would bet they think its funny that people think they're serious, both the people that believe in their lyrics, and the people that think they believe in their own lyrics.

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