Erm….no.
Quite possibly the most annoying song I’ve heard in a while. I Whip My Hair Back & Forth had a certain charm. Shit but catchy and sung by a crazy ten year old called Willow (awww isn’t she cute!) whose daddy used to be the Fresh Prince – we could all have a laugh and give ourselves whiplash when some zany DJ threw it down in a club night. But what is this tripe?! “I’m the fireball at the party”. WHAT PARTY. Willow you must be around eleven years old. Parties in your period of life are full of vanilla butter frosting, musical chairs, pass the parcel and ‘frocks’ – complete with your granny clapping her hands gayly in the corner. I think most of the parties I went to at Willow Smith’s age were in the Wacky Warehouse. Do they not have Wacky Warehouse in LA? I mean, are you trying to tell me you rock up to parties in snakeskin leggings and whip your hair repetitively in the jelly and blancmange rabbit until it flies up the kitchen wall and makes all the other kids cry? IT’S NOT RIGHT. If she’s the new school then I’m the moody as fuck university professor with a catheter writing a thesis about blood circulation in elephants.
And imma put it out there. Nicki Minaj has gone to the dogs. That’s not the same Minaj who spat over Saxon or Hold Yuh. Hell, that’s not even the same Minaj that warbled on Your Love. Peaks and troughs, peaks and troughs.
Esqueezy Rating : -5 out of 5. Absolute tosh.
