Do you know what “Saturday Love”, “Wifey, and “any line dancing song i.e. The Electric slide, Cha Cha slide and the Cupid shuffle, have in common? They need to be buried in the back of the closet next to your uncle’s Member’s Only jacket and your father’s Drakkar Noir cologne.

I figured if the NAACP can symbolically bury the word Nigga, whatever the fuck that means, I can bury these songs and others like them.

It’s not that I hate these songs, but I hate these songs. It’s almost like the songs were written about in the Negro constitution, right next to, “We hold these truths to be self-evident that ye being two hours late to a social gathering is acceptable.”

These songs are the bain of my existence and for the life of me, I can’t understand why people fawn over them, it’s not like they are all that great; but, yet like Hennessy, watermelon, and Desiigner, people lie to themselves all time about their importance.

But for real, who the fuck thought songs about exercise and only being available on the one day that no one is available would be considered classics?

And you can always find them being played at funerals, family reunions, just got home parties and clubs where the Dj’s name is Junebug.

I’m sure people may feel the same way about songs that I like, like “Candy”, “Never Let You Go” and “More Bounce To The Ounce” but the difference between these songs and the ones listed above is that you have a lower chance of being abducted my old Willie wearing the Bobby Womack “If You Think You’re Lonely Now” satin shirt or being hit on by Anna May with the leopard print catsuit and lace front leaning like a slope.

So, if for some reason you still like any of these songs you’re probably from Baltimore or New Orleans – that’s you still liking Saturday Love Ha or you go to clubs that still serve Fuzzy Navel’s.

What do you think? What other songs do you think need to be put to rest?

Talk to me, I’ll talk back.

Breazy Simpson

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