{*a parody of the 50 Cent song "Wanksta"*}
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[Intro]
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OK, who's next?
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Hi, My name's Jason
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And I'm going to sing Somewhere Over The Rainbow
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OK. Go for it
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(Really bad) Somewhere over the rainbow/ Way over there
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Oh dear Lord..
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[verse 1]
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You think you's a pop star, but you need to stop singin'
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I think you should leave now, till my ears have stopped ringin'
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You can't sing worth shit, and you can't dance worth shit
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What makes you think that if you cut a song it'd be a hit
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We do this all the time, some people soundin' fine
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But others sound like they're committing sins against mankind
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This girl she looks fine, she wants to get signed
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Her mouth opens and it sounds like gears when they grind
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I tell them all the time, send shivers down my spine
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They start to bitch and whine, and tell me I'm a swine
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They think they sound like gold, and I'm the one they loathe
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But they're all screamin' like they leaned against a hot stove
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So I send them away, and they all feel betrayed
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But even Paula doesn't have anything nice to say
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[chorus]
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You think you's a pop star, but you need to stop singin'
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I think you should leave now, till my ears have stopped ringin'
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When you try to hit a note, you sound like a sea lion
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You been singin' for your whole life, you need to stop tryin' (repeat)
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[verse 2]
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Damn homie, you sound like
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A dying lamb, homie, the hell's up with that?
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And then up next is Loretta, and I'm sorry I met her
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'Cause when she finished her song, I thought I'd need a rib spreader
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She thinks that she can do better, sing just like Eddie Vedder
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She thinks I'm out to get her, like I had a vendetta
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She look good, but she howls like an Irish Setter
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She's trying to start the song over but there's no way I'm-a let her
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Get out now, stop the bleeding, don't wanna hear another word
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'Cause you're the worst singer that I think I've ever heard
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I've heard enough now, I'm suicidal
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And she still thinks she's the next American Idol
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(chorus)
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You think you's an idol, but your sound is all dull
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Awful and an eyefull, stole your style from Paula
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You know that she's washed up, and that you're no heart-throb
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You are absolutely ghastly, don't quit your day job
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[verse 3]
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Me I'm no monster, me I'm not raptor
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Me I'm not mentor, me I'm just me, me
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Me I'm no singer, me I'm no actor
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But it's me who owns the record company
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Now your singing baby was a total mess
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You sang flatter than Ally McBeal's chest
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And yet you think that you're good, and ready for prime time
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But there's no future for you, well maybe as a mime
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Losers sayin' that they don't like Simon Cowell
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Is it because I kinda sound like Thurston Howell?
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Or is it 'cause they know success takes more than just luck
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And they know I'm right when I tell them they all suck
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(chorus)
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You think you's a pop star, but you need to stop buggin'
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If you keep on singin', I'm-a put my ear plugs in
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You ruined my favorite song, even screwed up the title
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You're a disgrace, you're no American Idol
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Next!
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-----------------
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Pop Star
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| Sudden Death |
