The Black Eyed Peas are terrible… just terrible. I don’t know why this even needs to be said, but seeing as they keep releasing songs and showing up on TV, apparently people aren’t paying attention to the damage The Black Eye Peas are doing to America. Every time you buy a Black Eyed Peas CD, the terrorists win.
Let’s see… 3 talent-light guys “sing” (read: talk) in unison, while a dubiously hot chick (with admittedly great legs) hangs out until it’s her turn to “belt.”
This brings me to the only part of this group worth much: Fergie. By the way, why does anyone call her “Fergie” instead of “Stacy Ann Ferguson?” I think that name is a lot classier and sounds a lot less like a butcher. If I had a butcher, I’d call him “Fergie.”
What is Fergie’s job, anyway? Slow-motion walk-in-place in pre-strip stripper clothes while the other guys talk in unison, then “sing” for a measure while the fellas drop back to watch her onion wiggle? Fergie… why so conservative? Love the butt-chin, BTW.
If you remain unconvinced, let’s delve into their lyrics… shall we?
“Boom Boom Pow”
Gotta get that
Gotta get that
Gotta get that
Gotta get that that that, that that
And can we forget the classic “My Humps?”
My hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump,
My hump, my hump, my hump, my lovely little lumps (Check it out)
She has a hunchback? Ew.
And then there’s “Don’t Phunk With My Heart,” which… ugh… why even bother?
How do you think their “songwriting” sessions go?
Guy 1: “Yo, how ’bout we go ‘no no no no no no no no no’?”
Guy 2: “Word. Then we say ‘yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah.’”
Fergie: “[squeak].”
Dear Black Eye Peas. Please stop.
