"Fix the Stink" A Chris Janson Parody

For some reason, I can only write parodies about gastric problems nowadays. 

This one's disgusting. So enjoy!

"Fix The Stink"

(A parody of Chris Janson's "Fix a Drink")

Well it's rumbling like hell inside right now

Had chalupas on the way, now there's a gassy sound

Forecast calling for some terrible shame

Well I can't fix that but I can fix the stink

From my throat to my gut then my rear end

I might break your heart when I'm breaking wind

Yeah, I need some Pepto for what's causing all this pain

Well I can't fix that, no

But I can fix the stink, make it smell nice

Light a candle or spray some Old Spice

The cheese has been cut, but I'll get you smiling

Replace the smell of shit with a tropical island

Yeah, it's me who pooted, I know it smells so wrong

This ain't sleeping gas so make sure you don't yawn

Sorry bout the slip, yeah I let it rip

Hand over that Febreeze

so I can fix the stink

I've heard it said before, beans are good for the heart

I'm wearing khakis so I hope I didn't shart

None of your friends can deal with this stank

Well I can't fix that, no

But I can fix the stink, make it smell nice

Buy a Glade plug-in or spray some Old Spice

The cheese has been cut, but I'll get you smiling

Replace the smell of shit with a tropical island

Yeah, it's me who pooted, I know it smells so wrong

This ain't sleeping gas so make sure you don't yawn

Sorry bout the slip, yeah I let it rip

Hand over that Febreeze

so I can fix the stink

I don't know what's going on with you

But you're laying on the floor and your skin's turning blue

It looks like that bomb wasn't a dud

Sorry I killed you with my butt

Oh well, I can fix the stink, make it smell nice

Hang up some air fresheners shaped like pines

You've passed away, so silent but violent

But at least this cloud of gas has a silver lining

I can make it fruity or maybe minty strong

Make it smell like honeydew or fresh cut lawns

Sorry bout the slip, yeah I let it rip

I hope you rest in peace

Uh, I can fix the stink

If Luke Bryan Had Written Taylor Swift's "Look What You Made Me Do."

"Look What Y'all Made Me Do"

(2017 FTM Parodies)

I don't like your mean ol' games

Don't like your memes and names

I'm real and y'all just play

Ain't called for, naw, I don't like y'all

I don't like your silly lines

The joke you tell each time

About these jeans of mine

Isn't cool, no, I don't like y'all (naw!)

But I got older, I got bolder, look how hard I try

Bro, I rose up from the truck bed, to shake my behind

I've got a list of names in crayon and underlined

I check it once, then I check it twice, yep!

Aw, look what y'all made me do

Look what y'all made me do

Look what y'all just made me do

Look what y'all just made me

Hell naw, look what y'all made me do

Look what y'all made me do

Look what y'all just made me do

Look what y'all just made me do

I don't like what you call country

Cause I was once the king

I think Sturgill Simpson stinks

And who the hell is Cody Jinks? (what?)

People say I'm too old for these songs for college hotties

But I hold on, I hold on, All I think about is parties

And all my songs get spins, so one thing's for sure

My chandeliers shine even if my music bores

Yeah I got older, I got bolder, look how hard I try

Bro, I rose up from the truck bed, to shake my behind

I've got a list of names in crayon and underlined

I check it once, then I check it twice, yep!

Aw, look what y'all made me do

Look what y'all made me do

Look what y'all just made me do

Look what y'all just made me

Hell naw, look what y'all made me do

Look what y'all made me do

Look what y'all just made me do

Look what y'all just made me do

I don't trust nobody and nobody trusts me

Y'all just jealous haters and I'm living your dreams

I don't trust nobody and nobody trusts me

Y'all just jealous haters and I'm living your dreams

I don't trust nobody and nobody trusts me

Y'all just jealous haters and I'm living your dreams

I don't trust nobody and nobody trusts me

Y'all just jealous haters and I'm living your dreams

(Look what y'all made me do)

(Look what y'all made me do)

(Look what y'all just made me do)

(Look what y'all made me do)

"I'm sorry, the old Luther can't come to the phone right now."

"Why?"

"Oh, 'cause he's mad!"

Ooh, look what y'all made me do

Look what y'all made me do

Look what y'all just made me do

Look what y'all just made me

Hell naw, look what y'all made me do

Look what y'all made me do

Look what y'all just made me do

Look what y'all just made me do

Ooh, look what y'all made me do

Look what y'all made me do

Look what y'all just made me do

Look what y'all just made me

Hell naw, look what y'all made me do

Look what y'all made me do

Look what y'all just made me do

Look what y'all just made me do

Lyric Parody of Kelsea Ballerini's "Yeah Boy"

"F Boi"
(Lyric parody of Kelsea Ballerini's "Yeah Boy")

Captured my attention, till I saw you were trippin'
Texting me that way
Gold chain and a ball cap, wearing nothing more than that
Put that lil thing away

You got that something on your mind, Now I'm wishing that I was blind
There's no flutter in my heart, just a chill down my spine

F boi
What the hell are you doing
F boi
You're acting just like a fool
Yeah you're trying too hard, You're leaving me scarred
Mama didn't raise you right
F boi
Your game is pretty pathetic
F boi
I'm not into creepin' fellas
One more horny text and I'm gonna call the cops tonight
F boi

Every Snapchat message gets me thinking that you're sleazy
All innuendo
No I won't take my top off, why don't you go jerk off
And leave me alone

Won't tell you what I'm wearin'
And don't slide into my DMs
I don't wanna and you're not gonna be my boyfriend

F boi
What the hell are you doing
F boi
You're acting just like a fool
Yeah you're trying too hard, You're leaving me scarred
Mama didn't raise you right
F boi
Your game is pretty pathetic
F boi
I'm not into creepin' fellas
One more horny text and I'm gonna call the cops tonight
F boi

F boi
Don't wanna take a little ride with you
F boi
Don't wanna spend a little time with you
F boi
I'm gonna hit the block button on you
Ew

F boi
Don't wanna take a little ride with you
F boi
Don't wanna spend a little time with you
F boi
I'm gonna hit the block button on you
Ew

F boi
What the hell are you doing
F boi
You're acting just like a fool
Yeah you're trying too hard, You're leaving me scarred
Daddy didn't raise you right
F boi
Your game is pretty pathetic
F boi
I'm not into creepin' fellas
One more horny text and I'm gonna call the cops tonight
F boi

F boi

F boi
Don't wanna take a little ride with you
F boi
Don't wanna spend a little time with you
F boi
I'm gonna hit the block button on you
Ew

F boi
No I don't wanna rock with you
F boi
Not interested, you stalker, you
F boi
Yeah I just hit the block on you
Ew

F boi

Body ON a Back Road

I recently made a meme which joked that Chris Knight's version of Sam Hunt's current single would be a bit more violent. Of course, I've taken that the next step. I wrote a 'parody' of sorts (not the humorous sort), that reenvisions Sam's pop sex song as a Chris Knight murder song.

Body on a Back Road
("Parody" of Sam Hunt's "Body Like a Back Road")

I found him on the south side

With blood in his hair

A cold, dead look in his eyes

Somebody just dropped him there

I know her house number

Down on Silver Creek

Black-eyed girl in a farm shack

Now her outlook ain't so bleak

Body on a back road

How it got there nobody knows

But you won't find anyone who'll miss that man

Somebody might do 30

But she ain't got no worries

Cause now he'll never raise a hand again

The way he'd come home drunk and mean
Beat her with a belt
She hoped and prayed for a way out
Not the hand life dealt
Cuffed in a backseat
for motives there might be
But I know her alibi will come up clean

Body on a back road

How it got there nobody knows

But you won't find anyone who'll miss that man

Somebody might do 30

But she ain't got no worries

Cause now he'll never raise a hand again

Followed him to his deer plot

Where he'd drink after work

Then I put that gun to his face

For all he'd done to hers

Now he's in hell or heaven

Yeah I made sure of that

Left that sumbitch lying there

Wiped the blood off of my badge

Body on a back road

How it got there somebody knows

But why it happened everybody understands

And I know I might do 30

But she don't have to worry

Cause now he'll never raise a hand again

If These Pop Hits Were Bro-Country

Ed Sheeran - Shape of You
Come over in that short skirt and holler at me
Those red cherry lips got me like wow
Take my hand, dance, to Luke Bryan on the jukebox
And then we go to the truck, and now I'm like what what

Chainsmokers ft. Halsey - Closer
So, hey girl, pull me closer
In the back seat of my Raptor
Migos rattling my Ford
Tribal tattoo on my shoulder

 

Migos - Bad and Boujee
Black top, truck stop (truck stop)
Turning in a field where the girls hot (hot hot)
Light up a bonfire, the party hop hop hop (hop)
Pass the Fireball, I want a shot (shot)

 

Lady Gaga - Million Reasons
Country girl in my Chevy, got one hand on the wheel
If you could see it my way, You'd let me grab a feel
Girl your fresh produce is always in season

 

The Weeknd - Starboy
I'm tryna get you in the right mood, yep
Riding cleaner than some new boots, yep
Those tan lines and eyes of blue, yep
Got me wanting to go screw, yep

 

Sam Hunt - Body Like a Back Road 

***no changes***
Got a girl from the south side, got braids in her hair
First time I seen her walk by, man I 'bout fell off my chair
Had to get her number, it took me like six weeks
Now me and her go way back like Cadillac seats

Honest Ad: Sam Hunt - Body Like a Back Road

Seminole Wind (a gassy lyric parody)

Apologies in advance. Bobby Joe has returned with one of his disgusting parodies. 

Potty humor ahead!

Native American facepalm

Seminole Wind
(©2016 Bobby Joe Parody Lyrics)

(parody of John Anderson's "Seminole Wind")

Ever since we planted food
Men would fart, oh it's been crude
They eat their greens with attitude
And flaunt their stinky holes
'Cause way down south in their lower bowels
With the gas running wild making up new vowels
The raffinose and galactose growl
In the gut of the Seminole

So rip, rip Seminole wind
Fart like you're never gonna fart again
It's smelling nasty like an un-wiped end
And I can barely stand
Yeah, rip, rip from the onions and greens
Brussels sprouts, lentils, cabbage and beans
Fart across the home of the Seminole
Yeah, let it waft across the land

Time went on, things went too far
And in the name of veggie farts
Organic farms and big salad bars
They made "pull my finger" jokes
And the last time that I went down there
I lit a match to clear the air
I listened close and I heard the ghost
Of Osceola choke

So rip, rip Seminole wind
Fart like you're never gonna fart again
It's smelling nasty like an un-wiped end
And I can barely stand
Yeah, rip, rip from the onions and greens
Brussels sprouts, lentils, cabbage and beans
Fart across the home of the Seminole
Yeah, let it waft across the land

Who's Gonna Fill 'em?

I'm getting so (old and) forgetful, I wrote this without recalling we'd already posted something 

similar in the past (as if we don't recycle jokes daily). Anyway, my version more closely fits 

the real lyrics and contains current details, even if Marilyn Branson's is funnier and has the 

benefit of a great tune and production (below my lyrics).

 Who's Gonna Fill Their Shoes

(A parody of George Jones' "Who's Gonna Fill Their Shoes")

You know this old world is full of singers
But just a few are chosen
To get it crunk up when they sing
Imagine life without them
All your bro country heroes
Like the cornball that wears those skinny jeans

No, there will never be another
Fat-headed Jason
Face painted black and fist bumping dudes
The dopey Voice host Okie
No what up darlin'
Lord I wonder, who's gonna fill their shoes

[Chorus:]
Who's gonna fill their shoes
Who's gonna yell yeehaw!
Who's gonna sing of hotties
And drinking sweet Fireball
Who's gonna show us how they roll
And sound so auto-tuned
Lord I wonder, who's gonna fill their shoes

God bless the boy from Georgia
Grinding with his pelvis
Singing about shaking it and beers
He sure rocks those skinnies
And really crashed the party
And "That's My Kind of Night" brings me to tears

You know the heart of bro country music
Still beats in Brantley Gilbert
Echoes cross that Florida-Georgia Line
Ol' Hubbard and Brian Kelley
Why I can feel them right here with me
In this chromed out Raptor rolling through the night

[Chorus:]
Who's gonna fill their shoes
Who's gonna yell yeehaw!
Who's gonna sing of hotties
And drinking sweet Fireball
Who's gonna show us how they roll
And take us on a cruise
Lord I wonder, who's gonna fill their shoes

Yes I wonder, who's gonna be a douche?

A Sophomoric Parody of Luke Bryan's "Move"

Don't read beyond this if you are classy and mature. You've been warned.

 

"Poop"
(Lyric parody of Luke Bryan's "Move")

Burritos were a bad idea on a night out
But I was feeling just fine so far
That is, till the opera house
We had seats in the middle, didn't bother me much
Till I got a groaning stomach and a cranky butt
I leaned to this side, lean to that side
Gotta keep this feeling all dammed up
Suddenly I'm sweating, feel like hell
You ask me what's wrong but I won't tell
Our fourth date's going pretty well
Can't say what I need to do

P-O-O-P, I gotta
Yeah, I gotta find some sweet release
Bathroom, or a tree
It's like my guts are full, I need to
Poop, yes I do
Ain't sexy, it's rude
But I've got to
Oh, girl, look at me
Legs and my hips
Everything clinched
My pants don't fit
Damn, my stool is loose
Stars flashing in my eyes
I don't think I can fight
If I don't lay some cable soon
Gonna die if I don't poop

It's true there's something in the air
I'm sorry and I know it was wrong
Got everybody looking around
Right about then, you lock eyes on me
You give me a dirty look, bet you wanna flee
All up in the middle of my left and right
Insides are tight, yeah, I've gotta be excused

P-O-O-P, I gotta
Yeah, I gotta find some sweet release
Bathroom, or a tree
It's like my guts are full, I need to
Poop, yes I do
Ain't sexy, it's rude
But I've got to
Oh, girl, look at me
Biting my lip
Everything clinched
My pants don't fit
Damn, my stool is loose
Blood pressure's on the rise
I don't think I can fight
If I don't take a load off soon
Gonna die if I don't poop

Let me number two
P-O-O-P
I need a porcelain chair with a plastic seat
U-H O-H
Look out, I'm coming through

P-O-O-P, I gotta
Yeah, I gotta find some sweet release
Bathroom, or a tree
It's like my guts are full, I need to
Poop, yes I do
Ain't sexy, it's rude
But I've got to
Oh, girl, look at me
Legs and my hips
Everything clinched
My pants don't fit
Damn, my stool is loose
Stars flashing in my eyes
I don't think I can fight
If I don't drop some kids off soon
Gonna die if I don't poop
Gonna die if I don't poop
Gonna die if I don't poop

Introducing: Another Pop Dude Singing a Pop Song on Country Radio

If Dallas Davidson Had Written These Summer Classics

FTM ponders what these classic summer hits would have sounded like 

if Dallas Davidson or any of his compadres had written them...

 

 

 

The Lovin' Spoonful - Summer in the City

 
Don't care bout summer in the city
Spent my whole check on Bud Light and a Yeti
Leave town, cranking up some Diddy
Ain't it sweet to have a girl who's drunk and pretty

 

DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince - Summertime

 
And think of the summers chasing ass
Connect the Bluetooth and let the Beats™ Pill blast
Or plug my aux cord and let G-Eazy rhyme and put your truck
In mud, get a dip, 'cause this is summertime

Bananarama - Cruel Summer

 
Hot country beats
On the gravel we're swerving
Are you down?
Trying to score but
The beer got me wanting to fight
Dwight Yoakam is playing
(Wait, who is that?)
Nah, play some Gucci Mane
Getting loose in the country
This heat got her
Right out her jeans

It's a lit (lit) lit summer
Let's shoot some nudes on my phone
It's a lit (lit) lit summer
Get it on
 

 

Don Henley - Boys of Summer

Down on the farm today, I saw a deadmau5 sticker on a Chevrolet
…

I can see you-
Your tan lines glowin' in the sun
You got that ass dropped down and those blue Costas on, baby
And I can tell you I'll keep your number in my phone
After the bros of summer have gone

LFO - Summer Girls
(no changes)

Thomas Rhett's "Vacation" is an Atrocity That Must Be Stopped

This is Rhett's new single:

It is horrendous and unquestionably the worst 'country' single ever. This is our first volley.

"Infected," a Parody of FGL's "Confession"

Infected

(Lyric Parody of FGL's "Confession")

Blue ink barbed wire wraps these arms

Wallet chain but I drive a car

Friday night just fades into the rearview

Yeah I had a pretty good time

For the half hour she was mine

At first I thought I had the beer flu

But now I wish what she gave me would disappear too

Chorus

I go take a pee and feel it burn

It feels real bad where I got laid

Guess I should be more careful about fields I play

She was so hot it just ain't fair

Pray for it to feel better down there

She had nice headlights and looked my way

Now, dude in the mirror looking back looks scared as hell

Should stop thinking with my erection

I thought it was just a poke, I don't know

Whatever I got, it's infected

This waiting room is so slow

Ten more folks before me to go

I sit here worried bout my part that dangles

Hope the doctor gets the swelling down

A pill to kill this gift I've found

In the arms of a trashy angel

I go take a leak and feel it burn

My package is in disarray

Got bumps and warts and lots of bad things underway

She was so cute it just ain't fair

She did some good and bad things down there

Had real nice headlights there on display

Now, dude in the mirror looking back looks scared as hell

Should stop thinking with my erection

I thought it was just a poke, I don't know

My poor little guy is infected

I go take a pee and feel it burn

It feels real bad where I got laid

Guess I should be more careful about fields I play

She was so hot it just ain't fair

Pray for it to feel better down there

She had nice headlights and looked my way

Now, dude in the mirror looking back looks scared as hell

Should stop thinking with my erection

Think I need medical attention

I thought it was just a poke, I don't know

Whatever I got, it's infected

Real Men Love Beavis

Real Men Love Beavis

(Parody of Michael Ray's "Real Men Love Jesus")

Real men love fartin'

Beer and Steve Martin

Cable shows about war

Tammy and Dolly Parton

Real men love grandpa 

Po-boys and cole slaw

And Shawshank makes 'em cry

And they like scratching balls

They like Saturday nights drunk on the couch

Chewing bubble gum from a pouch

And Chris Rock jokes always get them grinnin'

Cheap cigars and sneaking smokes

Hot girls in their yoga pants

Trying to do that dabbing dance

And they get blue

After football season

Real men love Beavis

And topless beaches

And talking like The Rock during Obama speeches

They drive too fast till they see blue lights

They laugh at the meme of Michael Jordan cryin'

They forget to zip their fly

Netflix and chill and the world's alright

They like Saturday nights drunk on the couch

Chewing bubble gum from a pouch

And Pryor jokes always get them grinnin'

Cheap cigars and sneaking smokes

Hot girls in their yoga pants

Trying to do that dabbing dance

And they get blue

After football season

Real men love Beavis

Real men love Beavis

Saturday morning sleepin'

Hair that's barely brushed

And standing outside leakin'

They like Saturday nights drunk on the couch

Chewing bubble gum from a pouch

And Hedberg jokes always get them grinnin'

Cheap cigars and sneaking smokes

Hot girls in their yoga pants

Trying to do that dabbing dance

I'm telling you

It ain't hard to please 'em

Real men love Beavis

Real men love Beavis

Honest Lyrics: Luke Bryan, Kelsea Ballerini, etc.

If _____ Wrote a Christmas Song: 2015

Cole Swindell

Hey Ms. Claus I wanna wish you well

Let me watch you shake that thang like a bell

Come and take a ride in my jacked up sleigh

One arm round you, one holding the reins

We'll jingle ling down a gravel road

Make a little joy, who cares if it's cold?

Jay-Z

I'm a gift in every sense of the word, grinch

Better trust and believe in

Santa Claus this evenin'

Spreadin' joy like what, gonna roast them chestnuts

HOV!

Old Dominion

Greetings girl, what's up?

It's a holiday, but I knew you'd pick it up

What you got on?

Are you wearing that mistletoe thong I bought ya

I know you've dialed "91_" on your land line, but I'm hopin' you don't call

I'm watching through your window, and I brought you some Christmas balls

Slayer

Holiday bell ensemble

Joyous to see

Reindeer flying through the night

But then strikes tragedy

Gunshots o'er Tennessee

Hunting season's siege

Santa's team falls under the blade

Venison sausage is made

Nicki Minaj

This dude named Kringle used to make me merriest

Sack bigger than a mountain, I ain't talking about Everest

Real jolly ass elf, let me drive his snow speeder

Cookies made his mouth water, now he calling me Keebler

Kacey Musgraves

Misspelled Christmas on the trailer deck

Cause there's rum in my cider glass

If you hear the neighbors gossiping

Tell 'em they can kiss my merry ass

If Florida-Georgia Line Had Written "Ironic"

(Alanis Morisette's "Ironic")

Honest Aircheck Country Top 21 Songs

Honest Billboard Chart Update - Sept. 2015

Click the image if you have trouble reading it

Congrats for Being Pretty!