Inner Monologue of a White Person Singing a Rap Song at a Karaoke Bar

Oh man, this song is awesome. And it’s rap so it’s like not even singing. Such a good choice.

Yo. Yo. Should I do that bobbing thing with my hand? No. Too much.

How did I forget about this fast part? Just read the screen. Yo. Ok, just get the last word of the line right.

What is gov’ment cheese?

Why do these lines rhyme in the actual song, but not when I say them? I guess I have to say them with a thuggy accent.

Is it racist to say “thuggy?”

Nah. I don’t mean it in, like, a moral way. I mean it in, like, a…cultural way? Is that worse?

Whatever. There are no black people here anyway.

There are no black people here? Do I not know enough black people?

Steve is Korean, but…are you really counting your non-white friends right now?

Yo. Yo. You decided you wouldn’t do the hand bob thing.

Seriously, is the government just giving out cheese to people?

Yes! The chorus, the part I actually know!

Oh, are those the words? Whatevs. My lines sound the same. Nobody knows what these people are saying anyway.

“These people?” Was that racist? It was sort of off colored. I mean, not colored.

You know what? F*ck it. I know I’m not racist. Throw that hand up! And there’s a black person over there. It’s all good. Read the lines.

“Yo my nig-ahhhherm”

Next time I’ll just sing “Semi-Charmed Kind of Life.” Fo’ shizzle.