A screaming girl at 0:08. That's how far into a Limp Bizkit album it takes to posit a suffering female as art. I thought the intro was meant like "Intro, bra," like they're frat guys, but then I realized it's a play on "cobra." Practicing early for Scribble Jam?
Bring It Back
Fred Durst cannot rap now even more than he could not rap before, which should make him more appealing to fans of his not-rapping. Is that how the logic goes? His new cadence is triple-nerdy, and the little divots of speed-rapping are stumbles. He pronounces "danger zone" the way Archer makes fun of people who say "danger zone." Durst sounds thin and weird; whether or not you think he's the biggest asshole in the world, you notice the missing heft. One thing New Limp Bizkit can do that no other band can is put Old Limp Bizkit in perspective.
Again, Fred's high new twang is not a plus. "It's so golden, y'all," he chants on the chorus. "Aggravated"/"Man I hate it," he rhymes in the verse. "Nuttin'" and "playa," he pronounces in strange tongue. "My Way," he rips off, echoing buildup bridge and all. John Otto's bass whomp and Wes Borland's dentist-drill whine, though -- they'd do a real rapper some good. In 2000.
Not just "Another one of those days," but also "straight to your fucked-up ass," the band recycles two or three Bizkit chestnuts of olde ("Break Stuff," "Hot Dog"), and puts them in a nauseating blender while fighting the real enemy: chumps who "talk trash in pajamas." "Watch them get smoked like a cig," Durst wordplays proudly. "While you get robbed like a zombie." If Nicki Minaj said, "while you get robbed -- zombie" I'd laugh. Comedy is all editing.
Get a Life
You get the idea from these titles that this is -- what else? -- a concept album about Limp Bizkit's hate mail. Which is not to be confused with any other Limp Bizkit album. "They're just hating cuz I motherfucking made it!" exclaims the Hatted One. Actually, I think they're hating because the lines, "If you don't like it you should scratch up on these nuts, bitch/Polar bear ain't a cracker you should fuck with" are terrible.
The single, I reckon, because there's almost a melody. How the shitty have fallen; I hate Gold Cobra because it's forcing me to retrospectively praise the importance of Fred Durst's singing. "That's the sound of a shotgun," Fred points out after the sound of a shotgun. "In my neighborhood, everybody's got one." Okay, buddy.