Jew Girl Rapper is #HotForHill

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Jew Girl Rapper Raps Hanukkah!

Yo.

So just the other day, I walked into this little shop

To buy a little trinket for a SECRET SANTA SWAP

Jingle bells be jinglin’, and the atmosphere was festive

And just like all the sneezin’s, I BE SEASONS AND CONGESTIVE

I found my little gift, and I checked out with the cashier

Who was dressed up in a costume, so I thought I’d spread some cheer

“Happy Holidays!” I said to little Krissily the Elf

“Merry Christmas, you mean?”

“Nnnno. I mean go f #$k yourself” READ MO, YO!

Equality, Bitch.

So I’m riding on the subway with my fellow Jews & goys

And sitting right across I see these gorgeous little boys

They were riding on the 6 train with this chick who was their nanny

(No, not cuz they’re Hispanic and this chick is Pakistani)

I heard her tellin’ someone she’s a nanny and a bassist

I didn’t make assumptions, bitch, I AIN’T NO NANNY RACIST

They were playing nice and quietly with little cars and boats

And dressed up so adorably in MATCHING MONCLER COATS

They were munching on some healthy snacks, a little veggie crudo

They looked like tiny 4-year-old MEMBERS OF MENUDO

As I looked into their gorgeous eyes and perfect dimpled grins

I whispered, “Motherfucker.  THOSE ARE RICKY MARTIN’S TWINS.”

Bitch, I’m well-versed in celeb kids (I once saw Bronx Mowgli Wentz)

And Ricky Martin’s on the East Side SO THE 6 TRAIN WOULD MAKE SENSE!

Of course I kept real quiet (didn’t wanna seem a dork)

Bitch, that’s just how you roll when YOU ARE FUCKIN’ FROM NEW YORK

(Well, I’m actually from Cleveland, but I’m sayin’ that’s how I WOULD in fact roll, if I was actually from New York) (bitch)

And speaking of New York, there is no place I’d rather be

Than where these two boys and their dads can be a fuckin’ family

I looked right at these happy kids, how nicely they were seated

And I thought about some news of late and got real fuckin’ heated

I promised long ago I wouldn’t make this blog political

But this shit isn’t politics–BITCH, I ain’t hypocritical

Keeping anyone from marrying just really gets me fumin’

I told ya, it ain’ politics, it’s simply fuckin’ HUMAN

Folks comparing beastiality to people who are gay!?!?

If anyone’s unfit to parent it’s the ones who think that way

Politicians cheering Chick-fil-a, all in the name of God?

And what if Track or Trig were gay?? Or (more likely)Todd?

The best thing we can give this world, so far and above

Is to let us all live equally and openly with love

I left train and smiled at Matteo and his brother (Valentino. duh.)

Who on earth would keep their dads from fuckin’ marrying each other?

Bitch, I fucking love my husband, our bond is crazy thick

I’d SO marry him again, even if he were a chick

Love is simply love, gay or straight, New York or Boca

And for two people in love to wed? That vida sure ain’t loca

I walked home and I thought about how much I find it bothering

How anyone could question love and question loving fathering

NPH and David Burtka, Ellen, Portia, Cam & Mitch?

If anyone keeps them from marrying, I’ll fuckin’ choke a bitch

I got home and went online for just a little decompression

And I wrote this lil’ rap for you in true PASSIVE AGGRESSION

And I Google Image searched a pic of Ricky and his tots

And I found one from that very day!  I’M LIKE GONNA PLOTZ

He was walking through an airport, kids in hand and standing tall

And I zoomed in on the boys  AND THEY WEREN’T WHO I SAW AT ALL

They were acting like his kids, one on each leg so tightly latching

BUT IT JUST CAN’T BE SO! THEIR JACKETS AREN’T EVEN MATCHING

They had no designer clothes and no Evita paraphernalia

And they weren’t on the 6 train–THEY WERE FUCKING IN AUSTRALIA

So my boys weren’t Ricky Martin’s kids, as far as I can tell

But I’m sure they have gay dads–they just were dressed too fucking well

No matter who their parents are, why not let them wed?

I logged onto my Facebook, seems we all be seeing red

Other people’s love is good, please don’t be a hater

Don’t be a Scalia, be a Kagan or RUTH BADER

Let’s keep our fingers crossed that we will see the end of DOMA

And see some FAB new registries at Williams and Sonoma

And let’s all teach our kids to love, they hear what we’re impartin’

Do it for the greater good (and for Ricky Martin)

Word.japequality

My Birthday, Bitch.

Yo–I had a special day, y’all–don’t just sit there i-dl-y

Bitch, it ain’t no mystery, I made it nice and title-y

So don a little hat, have a lollipop or sucker

Cuz just the other day it was my BIRTHDAY MOTHER FUCKER

And as always on my birthday, while I softly celebrate it

I’ll tell you all a secret–well, I kinda fuckin’ hate it

This all dates back to when I was a tiny little Jew

The night was New Years Eve NINETEEN FUCKING NINETY-TWO

My parents had big plans to go out with their friends to dinner

And I was sure to make this New Years Eve a fuckin’ winner

My dad took me to Blockbuster and rented me The Witches

We picked up the babysitter IT’S A SLUMBER PARTY BITCHES

I cut up all my Tiger Beats, made three bowls of confetti

And defrosted some pierogies BITCH THEY’RE BETTER THAN SPAGHETTI

I then called up every single girl in my fuckin’ class

“I gots pierogies and The Witches –ANJIE HUSTON KICKS SOME ASS”

My parents overheard this and just rolled their eyes in shame

And prolly weren’t surprised at all when just one person came

But she was TOTES MY BFF, so I didn’t mind a bit

And she brought me sparkling cider MARTINELLI’S IS THE SHIT

She didn’t want to watch The Witches, but that was our only clash

(If she don’t like Ms. Huston’s work in that, I HOPE SHE DON’T WATCH SMASH)

We danced with hats necklaces that glowed up in the dark

Like a two-person Bar Mitzvah for our dear old love, DICK CLARK

We had more cider and more candy than quite possibly could feed us

A night like this I think gave Wilford Brimley diabeetus

As the clock ticked down to twelve we were screaming and a-hopping

(We hadn’t learned ’bout balls, or I’d have joked about them dropping)

We counted down to one and I sent confetti flying

As it fell I looked down at my friend, and she just started crying

“OMG What’s wrong??” I ran right up to her and asked

She said to me through teary eyes, “Time just goes by so fast”

In poor form, I popped a popper (it was begging me to pop it)

She cried, “The years go by so fast and really nobody can stop it”

I stopped through falling streamers and I let her words just chill me

“I gotsta dustbust this confetti or my mom is gonna kill me”

We cried through the whole night, gravely questioning our fate

(I should probably mention here that we were motherfuckin’ EIGHT)

We still joke about that night, our thoughts at eight were so severe

But I go right back to that place ’round my birthday every year

I get scared when I see birthday cake and even some gift wrappin’

And for some reason on my birthday week, awful things just happen

Throughout much of history, that week is hella shitty

It was the week of Columbine and Oklahoma City,

The San Francisco earthquake and the siege at Waco, Texas

One year that week I backed my car into my neighbor’s Lexus

The Titanic hit an iceberg, Jack and Rosie started sinkin’

‘Twas a bad week at the theatre for President Abe Lincoln

That week the BP oil rig exploded in the Gulf

Mrs. Hitler had a baby and she named him fuckin ‘dolf

The Revolutionary War began, shots at Virginia Tech

All occurred my birthday week, and it’s like WHAT THE HECK?

The only good part ’bout my day is it’s Tim Curry’s birthday too

Without whom there’s no Frank-N-Furter, Home Alone, or CLUE

I try to see the good in things, we Jews don’t do the devil

But this year brought my birthday week down to a whole new level

Last week our dear ol’ country needed somebody to spare her

From hatred and from politics, from tragedy and from terror

Each day seemed to get worse than I ever thought it could

But through all the loads of evil, we saw ten times that much good

The goodness that came trough in itself was redefining

We saw new depths of darkness, but the brightest silver lining

We help each other run again, and carry those who fall

To be reminded of such goodness was the greatest gift of all

(Well, on the subject of great gifts my husband did get me a banjo

So to him I give my thanks and very possibly a hand-jo)

Now I think back on that New Years and my tiny worried self

And I think it’s time I take those fears and place them on the shelf

If we let our anxieties cripple and confound us

We miss out on the beauty that is right there all around us

I’m not sure what next year will bring, but I can guarantee

That I’ll be smiling on my birthday, with a banjo on my knee

And I hope you too will celebrate the good amidst the fury

And don’t do it for me, of course, but do it for Tim Curry

word.

Equality, Bitch.

So I’m riding on the subway with my fellow Jews & goys

And sitting right across I see these gorgeous little boys

They were riding on the 6 train with this chick who was their nanny

(No, not cuz they’re Hispanic and this chick is Pakistani)

I heard her tellin’ someone she’s a nanny and a bassist

I didn’t make assumptions, bitch, I AIN’T NO NANNY RACIST

They were playing nice and quietly with little cars and boats

And dressed up so adorably in MATCHING MONCLER COATS

They were munching on some healthy snacks, a little veggie crudo

They looked like tiny 4-year-old MEMBERS OF MENUDO

As I looked into their gorgeous eyes and perfect dimpled grins

I whispered, “Motherfucker.  THOSE ARE RICKY MARTIN’S TWINS.”

Bitch, I’m well-versed in celeb kids (I once saw Bronx Mowgli Wentz)

And Ricky Martin’s on the East Side SO THE 6 TRAIN WOULD MAKE SENSE!

Of course I kept real quiet (didn’t wanna seem a dork)

Bitch, that’s just how you roll when YOU ARE FUCKIN’ FROM NEW YORK

(Well, I’m actually from Cleveland, but I’m sayin’ that’s how I WOULD in fact roll, if I was actually from New York) (bitch)

And speaking of New York, there is no place I’d rather be

Than where these two boys and their dads can be a fuckin’ family

I looked right at these happy kids, how nicely they were seated

And I thought about some news of late and got real fuckin’ heated

I promised long ago I wouldn’t make this blog political

But this shit isn’t politics–BITCH, I ain’t hypocritical

Keeping anyone from marrying just really gets me fumin’

I told ya, it ain’ politics, it’s simply fuckin’ HUMAN

Folks comparing beastiality to people who are gay!?!?

If anyone’s unfit to parent it’s the ones who think that way

Politicians cheering Chick-fil-a, all in the name of God?

And what if Track or Trig were gay?? Or (more likely)Todd?

The best thing we can give this world, so far and above

Is to let us all live equally and openly with love

I left train and smiled at Matteo and his brother (Valentino. duh.)

Who on earth would keep their dads from fuckin’ marrying each other?

Bitch, I fucking love my husband, our bond is crazy thick

I’d SO marry him again, even if he were a chick

Love is simply love, gay or straight, New York or Boca

And for two people in love to wed? That vida sure ain’t loca

I walked home and I thought about how much I find it bothering

How anyone could question love and question loving fathering

NPH and David Burtka, Ellen, Portia, Cam & Mitch?

If anyone keeps them from marrying, I’ll fuckin’ choke a bitch

I got home and went online for just a little decompression

And I wrote this lil’ rap for you in true PASSIVE AGGRESSION

And I Google Image searched a pic of Ricky and his tots

And I found one from that very day!  I’M LIKE GONNA PLOTZ

He was walking through an airport, kids in hand and standing tall

And I zoomed in on the boys  AND THEY WEREN’T WHO I SAW AT ALL

They were acting like his kids, one on each leg so tightly latching

BUT IT JUST CAN’T BE SO! THEIR JACKETS AREN’T EVEN MATCHING

They had no designer clothes and no Evita paraphernalia

And they weren’t on the 6 train–THEY WERE FUCKING IN AUSTRALIA

So my boys weren’t Ricky Martin’s kids, as far as I can tell

But I’m sure they have gay dads–they just were dressed too fucking well

No matter who their parents are, why not let them wed?

I logged onto my Facebook, seems we all be seeing red

Other people’s love is good, please don’t be a hater

Don’t be a Scalia, be a Kagan or RUTH BADER

Let’s keep our fingers crossed that we will see the end of DOMA

And see some FAB new registries at Williams and Sonoma

And let’s all teach our kids to love, they hear what we’re impartin’

Do it for the greater good (and for Ricky Martin)

Word.japequality

I Met Bill Clinton, Bitch.

Yo I write the little raps, y’all, and oftentimes I feel

I gots to trick you all and pull this fuckin’ big reveal

Like that time I made you think I was using toys for lovin’

When really I was rappin’ bout my BREVILLE TOASTER OVEN

Or just last rap I said I had this big thing to confess

And it was that I had flu, (but fo reals I was a mess)

I think some misdirection sometimes is a little nice

Bitch, I love me some red herring LIT-ER-ARY DEVICE

But today I’ll come right out, you don’t need no fuckin’ hintin’

I’ll just say it, OH EM GEE, you guys, I MET BILL FUCKIN’ CLINTON

I just had left the gym, didn’t shower, I just went

I’m all, “Who is gonna see me? Not my FAVORITE PRESIDENT!”

I rocked my Uggs and puffy coat, Lululemon up my crotch

There was funeral traffic, REST IN PEACE TO MAYOR KOCH

So I’m waiting for the bus, just three stops, but that’s just fine

I GOTSTA USE MY MONTHLY ON THE M79

The bus stops right outside this fancy vegan restaurant

But on this afternoon three Escalades were PARKED OUT FRAUUNT

I had eaten there before, I found it gimmicky and faddish

I ordered ravioli, bitch, they made it outta RADDISH

I don’t know about y’all, but when I order ravioli

I don’t like to go home starving and eat MIDNIGHT GUACAMOLE

But after he left office and left Hills to deal with Putin

Billy boy went vegan and he cut down on his GLUTEN

So I’m standing with this Asian woman and her little son

When a guy jumps out the Escalade and then another one

They walk up to the restaurant and open up the door

And then the thing happened THAT I TOLD YOU BOUT BEFORE

BILL CLINTON emerged, bitch, the whole damn world stopped turning

It coulda been my lack of shower, but my underparts were burning

He walked right out the door and the scene played in slow motion

There was just so much to say and I was filled with such emotion

This man was good for everyone, small business and big firms

Our country saw such surplus when Bill Clinton served his terms

He led us from a dark place to unheralded prosperity

He gives hope and with his intellect, he always sheds such clarity

He’s sensible and wise and he always sticks to facts

(He’s a vegan silver fox and he could play me like a sax)

I thought of all these things and I stayed calm with all my might

When before he reached his car, he turned slightly to the right

With security around to make sure no one had a bomb

He walked right to the bus stop, UP TO ME AND ASIAN MOM

I looked into his eyes, like a sea of baby blue

And I melted to a puddle of a little rapping Jew

He extended his hand, with the secret service flanking him

I didn’t know what I should do, so I thought I’d stick to spanking him thanking him

He shook my hand, said, “Nice to meet you,” so gentle and so kind

When all my English words quickly left my little mind

I couldn’t feel my face, I could hardly even hear

So I just smiled with my whole face, bitch, from ear to shining ear

He then shook Asian Mom’s hand and her son’s hand in the middle

And he nodded back at grinning me (I maybe peed a little)

And shaking hands with him, by proxy, probably would mean

That I shook hands with the President of 20damn16

He climbed into his car, and he went along his way

And I thought a lot about the words I never got to say

I just met the greatest leader that our lives may ever know

And THANK YOU, CROSSTOWN BUS, for always being so damn slow

And thank you, Mr. President, I never will forget you

And let’s lay off Lewinsky, folks, cuz Monica, I get you

word.

Potty Politics

Yo I’ve got a bone that I’ve gotsta pick with you

Sometimes I complain, you see, because I am a Jew

And when something annoys me, or stresses me out it

Occurs to me to write a fuckin’ Jewey rap about it

So I came to you today with a well-defined mission

To make things better in the bathroom when we’re agoing public pishin’

Now this shit is for serious, a really major gripe

When people tinkle on the seat and they don’t even care to WIPE

And that’s what I’ll discuss today, with you I’ll share my views

But what irks me even more is what I’m seein’ on the news

BUT I decided long ago I wouldn’t make this blog political

So I won’t rap about that, cuz this bitch ain’t hypocritical

So hereby I’ll return to the aforementioned matter

About all these people peein’ and not cleanin’ EXCESS SPLATTER

When you choose your public bathroom stall, before you’ve peed or shitted

Once you turn that little lock you’re fuckin’ FULL TOILET COMMITTED

Whatever splatter’s on the seat, no matter just how insurmountable

Is left for you to clean up or you will be held accountable

So let’s say you have this guy, cleanin’ up for those before him

Cuz any droplets left behind, he’s now RESPONSIBLE FOR ‘EM

So he’s gotta make a mitt with the whole damn roll of paper

And clean up for the toilet seat’s LEGITIMATE RAPER

And though the problem may be worse than he could ever ascertain

He grits his teeth, gets to work, and never thinks to complain

And he chose that stall even though he really had a hunch

That the guy who went before him had CHIPOTLE FOR LUNCH

Any thought of backing down? This dude would certainly nix it

There is a problem in this stall and he DEVOTES HIS LIFE TO FIX IT

And still you have these folks outside always so quickly criticizing

Before he even took that stall they were politicizing

And what really blows my mind is that they even have the gall

To overlook the things he’s gotten done while locked inside that stall

In his efforts to clean up he’s saved American cars

And given healthcare to the people who have PREEXISTING SARS

And let’s say he may not always be the very best DEBATA

But he fuckin’ decimated mothafuckin’ AL-QAEDA

He let soldiers serve us proudly, whether they be straight or gay

And doesn’t plan to make amendments that would TAKE FOLKS’ RIGHTS AWAY

Still the others really think that they can clean up all that wiz

They’ve got a five-point plan to do it, but WON’T TELL YOU WHAT IT IS

But they’ll sneer and point their fingers and just never will confess

That they’re proposing the same shit that got us INTO THIS MESS

They have this puppet speaking for them and he’s sounding like a clown

Saying there will be less mess if we go back and TRICKLE DOWN?

And still they want us to believe that they could better represent

All of our bathrooms (‘CEPT FORTY-SEVEN PERCENT)

And they’re flopping back and forth on every mothafuckin’ issue

While they guy in there is down to his last square of toilet tissue

Therefore in the world of bathrooms we now have this great divide

Of those who work to clean things up and those who blame and hide

I know neither side is perfect, but at least one guy is trying

Instead of simply pandering and frankly FLAT-OUT LYING

Now just to clarify that you’re in no need of correction

I’m talkin’ about BATHROOMS here, not of no damn election

We all need our public toilets so we have to do our parts

They’re there for our emergencies and ghost poops (those are farts)

And now’s the time to exercise that very basic right

And support the ones who you best think will help us to win this fight

Any effort set to block your voice I simply do abhor

Just as much as I hate a LACKLUSTER METAPHOR

So go pull up your pants and wipe your lil’ booty

And make sure your voice is heard because now that’s what I call DUTY

That’s what this land is all about, the core of our foundation

So wipe the fuckin’ seat and let’s clean up our uriNATION

word.