KILLER MIKE – A.D.I.D.A.S.
Being not a song about his stinky trainers, though I daresay this is the only aspect of him which is truly a killer, but rather his mental processes. Cleverly this footwear advert is an acronym for All Day I Dream About Sex. Which would certainly explain why this song is so poor, he was obviously distracted thinking about a threeway between Big Boi and Andre 2000 and himself.
If this is true, and since when have hip-hop lyrics ever been true, then he needs serious help. Michael is really doing your head in and you are liable to get a gin soaked swizzle stick in your eye.
‘Wouldn’t you like to get away,
Sometimes you want to go – where everybody knows your name…’
Of course I don’t want to go where everyone knows my name. I’ve never been to a pub where I’ve allowed more than five people to learn my name. Last thing I want is people asking me to buy them drinks for the mere reason of name knowledge. I shudder if I hear someone shout ‘Your round Tanya’ – not because I am not the soul of generosity but it is altogether too presumptious. By all means buy me a drink, but we are not entering into any social contract here.
Let us look at those words again. ‘Wouldn’t you like to get away?’ What are you getting away from. I fear this is made clear by the next line. You see there is only one place I can think of where everybody knows your name. And that my friend is PRISON. And certainly you would like to Getaway rather than go to prison. Or, in this case, a false fronted TV sanitised idea of a bar peopled by halfwits, quarterwits and that intellectual genius that is Woody Harrelson.