Target Practice

Target Practice: Beyonce “Diva”

Target Practice

Welcome to Target Practice, where bad popular songs of the past and present get shot. There’s no question that Beyonce is one of the biggest names in pop music. She has it all; the looks, the body, the talent, the money, the fame, an equally-famous husband. Beyonce is who every woman wants to be. But while she is one of the better pop stars out there, her music catalog isn’t perfect. A couple of man-bashing songs that are borderline misandrist and some failed attempts at a women empowerment anthem (Run The World, anyone?). Today’s Target Practice is the latter, so let’s get into Diva.

The black and white portrait of the left side of a woman, who is standing in front of a wall. She wears a black jacket with flames on the front, and jeans and heels of the same color. Next to her image, appear the words

 I’m a-a diva (hey), I’m a, I’m a-a diva (hey)
I’m a, I’m a-a diva (hey), I’m a, I’m a-a diva
I’m a, I’m a-a diva (hey), I’m a, I’m a a diva
I’m a, I’m a a diva (hey), I’m a, I’m a a di…

 Oh, goody. Repetition. Just what I wanted to hear, the same phrase being repeated over and over again. The song barely started and this is what we’re getting into, pure annoyance. You wanna know the best part? This part of the song gets repeated throughout the rest of the track. God, help me.
 Na-na-na, diva is a female version of a hustla, of a hustla, of a, of a hustla…
Na-na-na, diva is a female version of a hustla, of a hustla, of a, of a hustla…
I know every other music critic/comedian has already said this, but a diva is NOT a female hustler. Here’s the definition of a diva.
Nowhere does it say “female version of a hustler.”

If you’re gonna make a song like this, at least get the definition right. Moving on from that incorrect, repetitive shit.

Stop the track, lemme state facts
I told you, gimme a minute and I’ll be right back
Well, you obviously didn’t state any facts on the hook, Bey.
Fifty million round the world and they say that I couldn’t get it
I done got so sick and filthy with Benjis, I can’t spend it
In other words, cash rules everything around me, C.R.E.A.M., get the money. Dolla, dolla bill, y’all. Thank you, Beyonce, for reminding me of a better song to listen to than this.
How you gon’ be talking shit? You act like I just got up in it
Been the number one diva in this game for a minute
I know you read the paper – the one that they call a queen,
Every radio round the world know me cause that’s where I be (first!)
Yes, ladies and gents. Beyonce is the number one diva and is the queen, even though she couldn’t get the definition of diva right.
When he pull up, wanna pop my hood up,
Bet he better have a six-pack in the cooler
And now we’re getting in to the sex talk. I swear this song is like a checklist of rap cliches. Plus, Beyonce didn’t even rhyme anything here. This song has three writers and no one noticed this. Wow.
Getting money, divas gettin’ money,
If you ain’t gettin’ money, then you ain’t got nothing fo’ me
Tell me somethin’, (tell me somethin’): Where yo boss at? (Where yo’ boss at?)
Yeah, yeah. We getting money and if you ain’t talking money, I don’t want to talk. Please talk about something that I can care about.
Where my ladies up in here that like to talk back? (that like to talk back)
I wanna see her (I wanna see her), I’d like to meet ya (I’d like to meet her)
What you say? (NOT TO ME!), she ain’t no diva (she ain’t no diva!)…
OH SHIT
SHOTS FIRED!! Looks like a cat fight is going to happen.
Since 15 in my stilettos, been strutting in this game,
“What’s yo age? ” That’s the question they ask when I hit the stage
Obviously referencing her Destiny’s Child days.
Quick challenge: guess the names of all the members that aren’t Beyonce and Kelly Rowland without using Google.
I’m a diva, best believe her, you see how she getting paid?
She ain’t calling him to grade-up, don’t need him, her best maid

Yeah, yeah. You’re a diva who doesn’t need a man. We’ve heard this shit before. Tell us something else we don’t know.

This is a stick-up, stick-up (I need them bags and the money…)
We’re gonna stick-up, stick-up (You see them ask, “Where that money? “)

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Why are you robbing banks now, Bey? You’re a multi-million dollar entertainer, not a character from Grand Theft Auto 5. Stick to what you do best. :sigh: Fuck this.

This song is an irritatingly messy ego handjob. The writing is bad, the flow is amateurishly laughable, the hook is repetitive, and the production is terrible. Seriously, the beat is just ANNOYING and that’s all thanks to the production style of Bangladesh (the same genius behind records like A Milli and 6 Foot 7 Foot). Being the top female has really gotten into Beyonce’s head for her to make this record. It seems when you get the money and fame, you start thinking your shit smell like roses. This isn’t the only terrible song Beyonce did, but I don’t think she has ever made anything worse than this and I don’t think she will (despite a few that comes close). Next Target Practice, we look at a Top 20 single from a Gwen Stefani knockoff.

Peace!!

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