No, Usher, I will NOT get in your car!

I’m sitting at my desk at work diligently working on an Excel spreadsheet.  It was a perfect career moment, but it needed one more thing- music.  Ah yes, some tunes for the morning.  Maybe I should listen to something intellectual, like Mozart or tranquil like Imogen Heap?  Scrolling through the list, I come to the Usher “Versus” album I had downloaded earlier.  Not sure what the hell I was smoking to think that Usher would make good intellectual music, but I played the album anyway.  The song “Get In My Car” starts, and all of the sudden I hear:

One more drink and we ready to cut

you tuggin my front im squeezin ya butt

you ain’t gone finish don’t start no stuff, don’t start no stuff,

theres too many woman here to waste all my time on you,

oh what ya gonna do girl,

I know I can have any one of you if I choose I…

I choose you I choose you

I say ay…  you… get in my car,get in my car

you know you wanna ride”

RECORD. SCRATCH.

[Looks around confused] Excuse me, but are you referring to me, Usher?  What do you want me to do what now?

Here’s the issue.  I can go on for days- no, years- hell, decades – about the degradation of women in hop hop lyrics.  I think we all know how that argument will play out, so I’m not going to beat the dead horse.  But what really bothers me about these lyrics, is that Usher thinks that women are just straight up objects.  And somehow, this girl should think HE is the shit and she’s just his toy, because hey – Usher’s time is so valuable and there are plenty of women to choose from.

First off, the line “there’s too many woman here to waste all my time on you” is the douchebag line of the century.  Can you imagine if someone told you this in a club?  Even if he was gorgeous, wouldn’t this completely turn you off?  It should. Why the hell would you leave with this man?  He is implying that you are not special or unique enough to capture his attention.  There is nothing about you (except for, I guess, your ass) that makes you an individual, because guess what?  There are tons of other women to fuck.  You’re not worth the time.  He can find someone else.  So really, it’s you who is missing out on fucking him.  That’s right – he’s hitting on you, but in reality you should be desperate to hop on his dick.

Uhhhh no.  I get it, Usher is good looking and rich and can sing and has nice abs.  Whoop-de-fucking-doo.  But would you honestly respond to that?  If any other man tried this, any woman with a shred of dignity would dismiss him.  But oh wait- it’s Usher.  Must be okay right?  WRONG.  Who does Usher think he is?

So now, Usher has chosen you and you are SO excited, because you just beat out all the other women for spot for a one-night-stand.  Congrats!  You should be so proud of yourself!

And you get outside to his Ferrari/Benz/Bentley/Hummer/[insert expensive car here] and he DEMANDS that you get in his car.  No “please” needed because he’s Usher of course.  He can tell you whatever the fuck he wants.  Don’t you remember?  He chose you.  Now you need to get in the fucking car.

This is just creepy.  Here you are, a grown woman, and this guy is telling you to get in the car? When I heard this line, I immediately thought of this:

Honestly, who does Usher think he is, talking to a woman that way?  Call me old fashioned, but if any one ever  talked to me this way, singing or not, I would peace out.  I don’t care if it’s fucking Usher.

You may say I’m overreacting, but let’s get real people.  Just because it’s a “song” doesn’t mean it’s harmless.  It has a message, a very clear one, and its being relayed to millions of people who listen to this song.  Because it’s a song does not mean its okay. Until we find out that Usher is Jesus, he is not above saying whatever the hell he wants.  And if you are a woman reading this, you should be offended by Usher’s song, and GOD I hope you are!  You wouldn’t take this from any guy you knew, and you shouldn’t let a pop star slide by with it either.

Come’on ladies, let’s get some respect.  And Usher?

You’re not worth my time.  And I’m not getting in your car.