Its a matter of weeks since Beyonce and Jay Z popped out a sprog in a hospital which they cordoned off all for themselves (probably leaving patients to die in the street or something), and they’re already out getting drunk like irresponsible thugs.

Seriously. Blue Ivy Carter’s head hasn’t even had the chance to form over the fontanelle yet, the poor neglected thing!

Yet still, this ghoulish pair don’t care one jot, going out and drinking shots and champagne without a care where their child is. Blue Ivy was probably locked in the car or something. It’s all so unspeakably awful that we’re crying here. CRYING.

Hova and Bey stayed out ’til arout 4 am at Jiggaman’s club 40/40 according to various people staring at some drunk celebrities, clearly having nothing better to do with their evening.

An obviously concerned source noted that Beyonce attended the afterparty:

“She arrived with her mother, Tina Knowles ,” and her mother-in-law, Gloria Carter. After “sprinting through a side entrance” shortly before midnight, Beyoncé toured the club for the first time since its renovation”

So far, so spectacularly dull.

However, Beyonce was seen sipping ‘what appeared to be a glass of bubbly’ around 3am, while tottering around in a cleavage-erupting red dress and embroidered Christian Louboutin shoes like some kind of expensive prostitute… and all the while, Jay stuck around ’til kicking-out time, throwing drinks down his famous, but irresponsible neck with Nas and some marketing bozo called Steve Stoute.

All the while, Blue Ivy was nowhere to be seen. Out of sight, out of mind.

We can only hope for that poor, poor child’s sake, that she won’t be left to fend for herself in the wild again with her awful parents off having the time of their lives like they don’t have an obligation to look after their newborn.

This is all incredibly troubling. It seems Jay Z meant it when he rapped ‘I got 99 problems but my newly born daughter ain’t one’.

We’re legally obliged to parody 99 Problems. Sorry.

Nicki Minaj is a woman on a mission. Her mission is to become the most gifted, yet irritatingly wasteful popstar who ever lived. Her guest-raps have been a thing of wonderful, but when it comes to her own back-catalogue, she’s determined to make the most annoying pop music ever made.

Seriously. She’s taken Daphne & Celeste’s blueprint and cracked it to 11 and added some push-up bras and kooky wigs.

And now, her latest offering – ‘Stupid Hoe’ – is getting banned by everyone because it is so very, very grating. Fancy a listen? Click over…

The video for ‘Stupid Hoe’ (or ‘Stupid Stupid’ if you’re listening to the edited, radio-friendly version) is the usual bubblegum Grace Jones schtick, with Minaj batting her eyelashes like a prom queen, as well as the typical post-GaGa ‘unusual make-up’ thing.

So far, so Minaj-by-numbers.

However, the song itself lacks the synth-wizz that adorns 99% of pop-tracks currently. Instead, she’s gone for a sparse drum-machine, basskick number, complete with a ‘woopwoop’ noise that is more irritating that a thousand toddlers vying for your attention.

Essentially, listening to a Nicki Minaj record allows you to feel the unswerving anguish of being a teacher at a kindergarten.

And so, forget all that obvious talent she’s got and get your ears round this. You may titter at some of her lyrics (especially those concerning Roman Polanski and Michael Jackson), but alas, you may never even get to them as you hack at your ears with a stapler in a bid to make it all end.

LUCKY YOU! ENJOY! ETC!

World events they’re fun aren’t they? Well no, not really, but hey at least you can now use IfIDie.net to record an ‘in-case of my accidentally on purpose death please avenge me to the bitter end’ video. Yes that a real thing now. Yes, it does seem like one of those fake adverts from Six Feet Under and yes it is the greatest use of video technology ever created.

We don’t know why bands even try anymore. They can’t even beat an advert for your own death. The 80’s, that’s what the music video was for, signifying an overabundance of crass ideologies, big hair, glittery outfits and the subjugation of women to the simple age when they were just ‘things’.

Did we mention the hair because that’s a pretty important part? Anyway, shall we look at the new releases?

Showing us all how not to do everything is the most boring non-member of Mumford and Sons Laura Marling.

She’s still whacking her hands against that stringed up tissue box and spitting slowly dying cats out of her face. So, obviously you might want to watch this on mute wherein you will transcend yourself and become one of those people who cites Russian Ballet as a hobby.

You scumbags.

If you like dancing, which as a nation we seem to do, then you will find this video exciting. Conforming to the aforementioned law that one of the vital elements for the success of a music video is the objectification of women, the people doing the dancing are of course women and they are of course wearing some unflattering black underwear, but underwear nonetheless; besides it’s black and we all know that means they want to have sex.

Probably with that snazzy man dancer who’s getting all up in their pelvic thrusts. Laura Marling-1, Feminism-0.

The Arctic Monkeys have gone back into the studio. Anybody?

Oh yeah Richard Hawley is there just in case you forgot they were local lads who love local things. Yes, we get it. You’re from Sheffield.

Breaking news coming in as we’re writing! The original Sugababes seem closer than ever to reforming according to one ardent twitter fan and thousands of unassuming idiots. Try not to break a sweat chasing this one round the rumour mill it’s only been a thousand years and a non-existent number of incarnations and counting.

Obviously you’ll be the first to receive a staggering endorsement of their new video from us if this ever happens. Regular service resuming in 5… 4… 3…

Yay The Red Hot Chili Peppers are still around and Anthony Kiedis still has the biggest dick in the business; everybody dance now! Well, you could, but someone decided to take the video offline thanks to copyright issues. WHAT A SHAME. All you’re missing is the usual turgid rubbish, complete with hair. Oh, there’s also a massive dog/penis allegory that’s being waved in the camera for three minutes.

The weekly metal music video to keep you in a state of habitual depression comes courtesy of Mastadon.

Metal can be sensual too is what this says. How? Well that’s a very good question, but here we state a case that it is through the innocence of a woman’s face. Metal-1, Feminism- -1.

Next week we’ll be ditching gender politics and solving the problems that are inherent within society due to the class system and economic policy so be sure to tune in for that and for the latest on what Mutya, Keisha, and the other one are doing.

Whitney Houston has had a GIGANTIC amount of MONSTROUSLY LARGE hits. That one off the Bodyguard where she looks like she’s defecating in a forest for the key-change in the video. That one where she had a blonde perm. It’s Not Right, But It’s Okay.

Of course, there’s that one where she said that she believed that children were our future and that, should we teach them well, we could probably let them lead the way.

Well, it seems Whitney has been getting financial advice from a 6-year-old as her squillions of dollars have all but vanished from her purse, leaving her hilariously begging people for money. Crack eh? Easy punchline, but more pertinently, a Whitney Houston ruiner.

When Whitters is not getting thrown out of gigs by Prince, she seems to have been ingesting so much crack that she’s managed to make herself poor.

Properly poor. Poorer than Toni Braxton’s three-hundred-or-so bankruptcy claims.

Radar Online report that a source close to the singer has lost her fortune. They revealed, presumably for money which they ultimately won’t give to the struggling Houston:

“Whitney’s fortune is gone.”

“Music industry heavy hitters are supporting her and her label is fronting her cash against her next album, but no one knows when that will be released.”

It’s like Brewster’s Millions isn’t it? Seriously. If you need to spend $300m in 30 days, simply lend it all to Whitney Houston and it’ll be gone in half-an-hour.

The source added:

“She might be homeless if not for people saving her. She is broke as a joke. She called someone to ask for $100.”

Gah. Imagine. Ponytailed music execs all circling round Whitney with subs to lend, brandishing their members at her while the greatest love of all turns into a potential puke-kkake fest.

Tulisa off of ‘N Dubz’ has split up with that other bloke Fazer out of ‘N Dubz’ because they were just having a hard time. What’s that you say? Not the best of starts to the week? Well congratu-bloody-lations on that nugget of wisdom, Sherlock. You THINK?

APPAZ (It’s definitely an ‘appaz’ moment. Please give us one ‘appaz’.) Tulisa moved out of the couple’s North London haunt, at some point sometime in the past week probably, and the only reason we’re a bit hazy on that is only because we’re very vulnerable and are having trouble keeping our calenders straight in our shaky callous fingers right now, before you start.

What’s more, it’s not been looking too good for the Camden childhood sweethearts as it was, seeing as their holiday in the Maldives the other day didn’t half go all post-traumatic stressy bessy anyway. We just really didn’t fancy mentioning that at the time, because we didn’t want to make your lovely little faces do that thing.. YES, THAT. THAT THING YOU’RE DOING RIGHT NOW. With the tears. Stop that. Think our problems are really as big as Sinead O Connor’s, do we? Mmm. Well maybe pour another glass of brandy, listen to Mandinka on a slower RPM, and then grow a heart. (Sorry, we’re still sad.)

In a faintly exhausting-sounding poll that we didn’t read because we were really busy talking to all of our very interesting friends about  ’current affairs in ‘the newspapers’ –  it’s apparently all the more likely that couples are splitting up because it’s all January and nobody wants to buy anybody that Valentines Card with the cock jokes on, coming out a speech bubble of a blissfully unaware, compliant cartoon penguin. Apparently. Oh and according to, and we kid you not, The PR Representative of Sheila’s Wheels (Or ‘Moses 2012′ if you will)  it’s because ‘It’s a bit dark outside and stuff.’

Well that clears up Seal and Heidi Klum then, who also erased our hopes of a Utopia where they are king and queen, dressed up in their discrimAMAZING Halloween outfits, as we moisturise them thoroughly on blinded awe this week.

Or: ‘they broke up too’ if you want to be more black and white about it. Seriously, you guys are all about the fun today.

However, like that bit in Casablanca where the PMS slaggy one is all ‘Come on Sam, put a donk on it’ (Commonly misquoted, as you all know) this particular love story ends with a glimmer of hope, where Tulisa went out on the razz, got bollocked, and got HER ‘Member of Little Mix with low self esteem’ out for all to see.

And as for Fazer, he’s doing a solo album with that sensuous temptress of the night that is Chris Brown of course.

So, here’s looking at… At least 12-18 months of community service, we estimate. God, we really love Casablanca, so romantic.

Are you familiar with Drake? If not, then all you need to know is that he’s the lamest, softest, wimpiest milktoast of a rapper who ever lived. Seriously. Your little sister could easily take him. Your dead nana could beat him up AND out-rap him.

And so, with that, does it surprise you that the weather made him cry?

Over the weekend, he played at the Sundance Film Festival and it snowed a bit. Instead of making a snow-sculpture shaped like a ho with a gun, he preferred to bite his nails and worry about the whole thing, cowering under his Power Rangers blankie, fearing for his life.

Late for his show, he told a crowd made up entirely of divorcees and poindexters:

“I almost lost my life six times to get to this motherf**ker. My flight was delayed six hours. I was on the curviest roads of my life!”

He wasn’t finished talking about his ordeal, at one point, asking for a lie-down and something to eat, telling his simpering, wimpo audience:

“I need a massage and a grilled cheese”

Obviously, someone would’ve had to cut of the crusts for Drake as well as wearing special linen gloves because the roughness of people’s hands hurts his skin.

After the show, Drake invariably went backstage, worried about any profanity he used because getting his fee stolen from him by a passing butterfly who threatened to land on his face.

He probably then spent the rest of the evening crying at the moon because he didn’t know what it was and it frightened him, before being talked round with a glass of warm milk and a big cuddle from his management.

Kanye West is not a talented rapper. Sure, he’s great at getting heard, getting famous and coming up with mad-schemes to stay in the limelight, but he’s rapping… let us just say he’s a slower wordsmith than Turbo B from Snap!

Still, an attention-seeker always gets attention.

And it appears that he’s always been like that, as a video has emerged online of Kanye performing a poem when he was a little biddy 12 year old. Wanna see it?

The footage shows Yeezy reciting ‘His Name Means Love’, a poem dedicated to Martin Luther King Jr, who would have been 83 yesterday.

It seems the video was posted online by one of his old classmates at Vanderpoel Elementary School in Chicago.

Oddly enough, if appears that ‘Ye had more stage-presence and authority back in 1990 than he does now. He certainly sounds more convincing with the mic at 12 than he does these days.

Well, you would put your back into it if it was MLK, wouldn’t you?

Anyway, enough chat. Watch this video now and wonder where it all went wrong.

Azealia Banks is attractive, ballsy and is responsible for some outrageously fun tunes. 212 was a thrilling slice of pop which had one of the filthiest refrains in memory. And now, a new track is online (which you can hear below) which samples Aaliyah!

And so, talented newbie samples RnB legend? What could possibly go wrong?

Well, once you’ve heard it, you might be tempted to think ‘everything’. See, Azealia Banks has gone and made something really very boring indeed. Is she a case of all hype and no knickers? We should lower our hopes.

Banks’ new track is called ‘NEEDSUMLUV’. She posted it on her tumblr because she’s all modern and that.

The track samples Aaliyah’s ’96 single ‘One In A Million’, and is sure to get buried under sycophantic praise from all corners… that’s because the music rags are too scared to miss out on potentially the Next Big Thing and certainly don’t want to fall out with anyone on the rise, in case they hold a grudge and withhold all future complimentary tickets and freebie records.

‘NEEDSUMLUV’ is probably going to end up on her forthcoming debut album, which doesn’t have a name yet.

We’re not saying that it’s going to be lousy, but if NEEDSUMLUV features on it, then you can mark it under ‘filler’.

Can we have more in the seam of 212 or L8R please?

Ta.

Anyway, have a listen to the new track now and tell us how grotesquely off the mark we are about it.
NEEDSUMLUV (SXLND) by Azealia Banks

Rap troll, Lil Wayne is going to release his prison diaries, just in time for next Christmas. That’ll be a nice present for your nana won’t it? In it, he’ll probably talk to God a lot while simultaneously glamorising his pretend ‘thug’ lifestyle.

But will he be mentioning the poundings he took around the anus while in the prison showers? We do hope so, because that would be refreshingly charming!

The book will be titled ‘Gone Till November’ and will be based around the diaries he kept while in the clink. This puts Wayne in the same company as Nelson Mandela and… uh… Jeffrey Archer.

Little Wayney Wayne spent eight months on Rikers Island on gun charges. Basically, he thought he’d do something original and be a rapper with a gun. Seriously. What a git. Cops just love pulling over black people and searching them for weed or firearms – you’d think they’d be a little more wary, right?

Ben Greenberg, of Grand Central publish (who, duh, are putting the book out), said:

“We are thrilled to be publishing Wayne’s prison memoir. He kept detailed journals of his inner and outer life while he was on Rikers Island, and they certainly tell a story. They are revealing.”

Revealing how? Like his lyrics? Such as…

“I admire your poppin’ bottles and pimpin’ just as much as you admire bartending and strippin’.”

and

“I said he’s so sweet, make her wanna lick the wrapper – so I let her lick the rapper.”

This book is going to be amazing, obviously. Up there with Chaucer and Bridget Jones’ Diary. Of course, he’s going to be detailing all his thoughts and feelings, but if that’s the case, this should be more of a pamphlet than a book.

Still, it’ll give numskulls something to read away from Sports Illustrated and FHM when they’re on the pan.

What do we know about Snoop Dogg? Well, firstly, he’s a rapper. Secondly, he’s all long, thin and funny looking. Thirdly, he likes weed. He really, really like his cheeba. He mentions it all the time. So much so that you might think he protest too much and that he’s actually never tried it.

Or he didn’t inhale.

Alas, that hasn’t stopped him getting arrested in Texas this week after another canine with a nose for skunk uncovered a rake of marijuana on his tour bus. Seriously. We just assumed that he’s ALWAYS got a buncha hash about his person at all times. Why he’s not constantly being checked up on by the police is a mystery.

A law enforcement source told the ambulance chasing TMZ that Snoop’s tour bus was stopped at a border patrol checkpoint in Sierra Blanca. Another celebrity got checked for weed there too – say hi to Constantly Going On About Weed Willie Nelson. And yep, he got his collar felt by those same cops back in 2010.

Of course, the funny thing is, Snoop spoke up for Willie when he was arrested, saying:

“They better leave Willie the f**k alone.”

To add to that, they even cut a hilariously terrible song together. It’s called ‘My Medicine’ and we couldn’t begin to imagine what that might be a euphemism for.

Either way, the border patrol inspected the bus with their sniffer dog and BOOM, let us just check this waste bin here! Ah yes! Snoop Dogg In Drug Owning Shocker. Not too cleverly, Snoop… or at least, someone on his tour bus (him), tried to hide some joints in a red prescription bottle.

Of course, Snoop has a prescription for cannabis in California, but alas, that prescription cuts no ice in Texas. Oh. And they hate black people in Texas, so there’s that as well.

More news if we can be bothered to find it.

When 50 Cent released an album called ‘Get Rich Or Die Tryin”, no-one really suspected that what he actually meant was, at some point, he’d get so bored of being a rapper that he’d just give up living.

We’re not talking about suicide here, rather, just the complete lack of will to stay alive. He’s got rich, now he’s not bothered about breathing anymore.

And 2012 has seen Fiddy talking about just that. He just wants to stop everything. He’s had enough.

In a series of tweets, Pifty Cent (the world’s first and foremost deaf rapper) has expressed his disappointment with the world of music and has vowed to cease any self-promotion for new music releases.

“I have lost all the faith in the team I’m on. I having nothing left to say I will not be promoting my music.”

He will still release his fifth album with Interscope, but he really couldn’t care less about it.

“I’m going to deliver this album. Then I have a film I wrote to focus on. I’m not upset, I’m just convinced this is not how I want to remembered”

Remembered? Why, is he going to be dead soon? Seems so:

“I’ll be honest I don’t think I’m gonna live much longer. That’s why I started my street king movement. I want to mean more in other people”s lives.”

Just stop rapping for a start. Seriously. It sounds like you have a penis in your mouth all the time. He doesn’t does he?

Hey! Think about this. Get a really good image of it in your mind. Get it really clear. Think of the juices being swapped between two consenting adults. Think of the grunty sex noises. Okay? Got there?

Now, imagine Cameron Diaz and Sean “Diddy” Combs doing it proper with each other.

Doesn’t make any sense does it? You just can’t imagine it now. All those vivid images have dissipated into the ether with a confused shrug. However, this is real life. Someone has seen them slobbering all over each other. It must be real. It has to be real.

According to the NYPost, the unlikely pair were caught kissing on Saturday night at some stupid place called PH-D at the Dream Downtown Hotel.

People spying on a couple because they had nothing better to do note that Diddy came to meet Diaz at her table at about 1:15 a.m. That’s far too late to be meeting people. You should be in bed, glaring at the ceiling in the darkness by that point, thinking about how awful you are.

Anyway, Puff/P Diddles/Panda Comb/Seany Dando/Daddy Poo/Diddn’t/Whatever He’s Called Now, ordered multiple bottles of Ciroc, Grey Goose and Patrón, while onlookers drank drip-tray from the bar and asked the bar staff for ‘two’s on that fag’.

Probably.

Some absolutely trustworthy source said:

“They were kissing and making out” and continued being “very affectionate” while they danced.”

They then LEFT TOGETHER, quite possibly to go and have ‘sexual intercourse’ on a foldaway Z bed at Puff Doodah’s bedsit which smells like Super Noodles.

Diaz’s rep still reckons that the two are:

“friends and are not dating.”

Shag buddies. That’s what they are. The dirty slags.

If you haven’t heard of rapper Drake, firstly, well done. Secondly, if you’re wondering what he’s like, then imagine a depressed divorcee listlessly cooing at a microwave meal for one, and you’re somewhere close.

Basically, Drake is the Michael Bolton of hip hop. He’s so lame that chocolate fireguards pity him, and we all know how useless they are.

Yet, somehow, Drake has amassed a number of fans. One of them has done something more ridiculously dim that even Drake himself would have to crack a smile. A very worried, OH MY SWEET JESUS ON CRUTCHES, IS THAT A MASSIVE TATTOO ON YOUR FACE?, smile. Wanna see? Course you do.

Some dimwit in LA has decided to have ‘DRAKE’ inked onto her forehead in the biggest, stupidest font that could possibly fit on her brain-devoid head.

The fan entered Kevin Campbell’s tattoo shop (Will Rise, if you’re interested) with her head and eyebrows already shaved, ready for her tribute to a rapper who is about as sensitive an a Christmas party for eczema sufferers.

The tattooist used to reside in the ‘Crip’ area of Harbour City so would be more used to doing things a bit more meaningful or dangerous. Alas, there was an idiot stood before him and he’s got bills to pay.

He asked the girl three times whether she was sure she wanted the terrible tattoo and explained the consequences of having a giant tattoo on her face.

“After that, the bad decision is on them”

When finding out it wasn’t a ‘gang thing’, tattooist Campbell found it pretty hilarious, commenting:

“I guess I feel bad that this dumbass got the name of the softest motherfucker in hip-hop tattooed on her forehead.”

Drake has announced a UK tour for March and April next year. The dates are:

Shut up you idiot, everywhere.

Here’s the photo of the tattoo.

All industries are dominated by a few major players -  just look at the computer you’re using. It’ll either be a PC or a magical Mac that claims to aid you in ways you didn’t think existed. In the music world, different genres have varied leading individuals.

In the world of rap & hip-hop, there are plenty to pick from; ranging from Jay-Z, Nicki Minaj and Kanye. Remarkably, one person whose still has a career despite his woman punchingpast is Chris Brown.

Since his incident with Rihanna and other angry antics, it’s remarkably easy to make fun of Chris Brown and the rest of Team Breezy. Team Hecklerspreezy doesn’t mind being the crew to do just that. However, we’ve been alerted to a piece of satire that is amazing in a variety of ways. So stop reading our ropey sentences and watch Mac Lethal slay Chris Brown with some lyrical pancakes.

Actually, we’ve just realised that most people reading hecklerspray wouldn’t know the original song. So in the balance of fairness, here’s the original.

Though we advice you don’t listen for too long.

We don’t want you to suffer any anger bouts like Chris Brown does. Ten minutes with his music is enough to make you want to domestically violence one off on yourself.

Seriously. Listen.

As you’d expect, it’s a video with the same generic stuff going on. People popping their limbs aimlessly whilst cheaply hired models parade around in clothes that they won’t be able to keep at the end of the shoot.

Most shockingly, sunglasses are being worn inside by people. Automatically making them look like they require a guide dog.

But forget that, here’s what we all came to see:

Sometimes parody/satire videos can lose all of their wit after one play, but this is a genuinely funny video that not only rips the anus out of Chris Brown, but does so by altering the context in the most radical, unlikely and creative way.

If only all cookery shows and books were replaced by rappers instructed us how to make the perfect pastry with a rhyme accompanied by a dope beat.

“Y’all got tickets to see the Stone Roses? What? Manchester doesn’t like the Stone Roses? Aren’t they from here? Ladies and gentlemen… our special guests, THE STONE ROSES! They’re all out back cryin’ now…”

Das Racist aren’t your average hip hop outfit. Instead of bring the usual posturing that is seemingly obligatory in the world of rap, they pretty much stumbled into view almost as unprepared as we were when we first set sight on them.

Coming to Manchester, on the back of an appearance on the Conan O’Brien show, they stared out at the throng and looked as pleasantly bewildered as those staring back at them. Mercifully, from the neck down, everybody was dancing.

Laughing at the chorus of boos that met the Stone Roses chat, Das Racist’s between-song patter was as funny as their songs are. And humour is something that these reprobates trade in daily.

Of course, having a sense of humour in hip hop is a tricky thing. Years ago, De La Soul were happy to sing about shovelling chestnuts in their backpacks, while Ol’ Dirt McGirt would often fling out hilarious asides from whichever cultural reference his sharp, but addled mind, landed on. However, both acts have been prone to act tough for the sake of staying onside with the hip hop glitterati.

Not Das Racist. They clearly couldn’t care less. And it’s this wilful and enthusiastic embracing of amateurism which makes them such a fun, cool ride.

Whereas the likes of MC Paul Barman can go overboard on the LOOK AT ME, I’M A FUNNY RAPPER! thing, at times, nearing Weird Al levels of parody, Das Racist don’t even need to try. They look like they’ve never exerted themselves in their whole lives. They’re naturally funny and, mercifully, have the beats to back it up.

And so, without a care in the world, Heems, Kool A.D., Dapwell (and the Looking Like He’d Taken A Load Of Mushrooms Before Walking Onstage Lakutis) strolled onstage and promptly went about slaying everyone in sight with some super heavy basslines and slanted, skewed observations on… well… everything, ever. When settling in with Das Racist, you have to cling on tight or you won’t keep up.

See, while the backdrop featured Beyonce looking like a melted waxwork and Osama Bin Laden grafted onto some hideous demon body, from the stage, Heems indulged in some call-and-response, notably asking the crowd to shout “GET A REAL JOB!” and “THIS IS NOT WHAT I PAID TO SEE!” at him.

He then gave someone in the audience a banana.

While this all sounds far too zany, fact is, amongst it all is one of the tightest backcats on the planet. They launched into their impressive setlist setting feet to pound and brains to stun. The morning after, its hard to beat what the New York Times wrote about the group:

“Das Racist’s lack of piety has become an aesthetic of its own, with songs that are as much commentary on hip-hop as rigorous practice of it.”

Basically, Das Racist aren’t you’re average crew. Smarter than they look and wilfully dumb, they’re just about the most perfectly amalgamation of all that rap that’s gone before it. Of course, people don’t have much room to praise anyone but Tyler The Creator and Azealia Banks at the moment and, sure, while the latter is an exciting popstar, it feels like everyone backed the wrong pony with Odd Future.

For super fresh beats and smart-ass, bug-eyed rhymes, Das Racist kill all the opposition. Don’t tell ‘em though. They haven’t got a fuckin’ clue.

Let’s keep it that way.