So I have no idea who this Azealia Banks is. Frankly, I’m not up on pop culture, so this is the first time I’ve ever seen her name in print. Here’s what I do know. She’s apparently a rapper. She looks like the byproduct of unfortunate and sloppy anal sex session between Beetlegeuse and Iggy Pop. And she recently gave an interview with Playboy, telling the magazine that she hates the United States, and specifically “racist conservative white people” and “fat white Americans.” “Do you want to leave the U.S.?” asked Playboy?
Yes! I hate everything about this country. Like, I hate fat white Americans. All the people who are crunched into the middle of America, the real fat and meat of America, are these racist conservative white people who live on their farms. Those little teenage girls who work at Kmart and have a racist grandma—that’s really America.
Really! The same America that elected a black president. Twice. The same America where black economists like Thomas Sowell and Walter Williams, black celebrities like Oprah Winfrey, successful CEOs like Kenneth Frasier and Ursula Burns, military leaders such as Colin Powell, scholars and foreign policy experts like Condi Rice, and actors such as Denzel Washington and Morgan Freeman continue to make history? That America? She hates farmers who provide the food that nourishes her ass. She hates teenage girls who are working in a store she obviously would not deign to patronize, because KMART! Dog forbid someone actually works for a living instead of puking forth barely literate cockspew and spreading their legs! She hates middle America, because they’re white, and apparently fat, according to her standards. This dumb cocksplurt read the word “misogynoir” somewhere and has decided to claim it as the slight du jour as justification for her hatred. Because she’s black, and she’s female, and therefore SHUT UP, RACIST!
Yeah, OK, fuckwit. The same America you claim to despise buys the cretinous spew you claim is music, which – if these lyrics are any indication – was written while in a meth haze while being sodomized by a rabid orangutan.
I take your brain to another dimension I take your brain in a parallel universe trip I’m the only no parallel bitch Things running and shit, maneuvered in deep Then I murder you and you spit Get your little outdated frozen a hip On the word click click How much is for this clip Blast it off last ‘er, you might be stuck on this dick Look at this bitch, tick tick What you do, wanna get hit hit Four fifth move quick, four fifth’s in the whip What dimension is this
That same America made you famous, and got you that spread in Playboy, so you can swing your udders and undulate your moldy meat curtains. That same America gives you the freedom to capitalize on that felched up vomit you call talent. That same America protects your right to be a bloated, greasy cuntmange and spew your hatred with impunity on the pages of a magazine that shows off your overly made-up, bloated cock hole. You hate racists? Look in the mirror, you shitslurping twunt. But get some eye bleach ready, because once you emerge from that Peruvian powder-laced vat of delusion in which you live, you may not like what you see. And by the way, since this is a free country, you’re free to take your jiggling saddle bags somewhere else, you fetid fuckbadger.