I was so fixated on the visual of two shirtless dudes hovering on a studded leather bra that I damn near missed that guy on the left (is it T? Is it X? Do I care? Kinda?) has his hand down his pants.
"Watch Ya Gal"--The intro cost thirty bucks, and they paid in ones. Guarantee.
Tiny T calls himself "the nymphomaniac motherfucker." He meant "satyromaniac." Don't gimme no lip about 1994 being "pre-Google," I promise it wasn't "pre-dictionary." Anyway, Tiny T fucks a lot. He knows 99 positions, seven more than Prince! I cannot possibly be offended by this. He temporarily changes his name to "Li'l T" just to rhyme with the words "will be."
"Can't Spoil Ya"--Ah, dilemma! The independent woman…who wants to be indulged every now and then. And the broke men…who resent them. This song is actually shrinking on me.
"Butt Naked"--Cartoony skit. Will this record ever begin to piss me off?
"Cum With Me"--Actually features faux-intercourse and thinks a woman exclaiming, "Ooh Tiny!" is a turn-on.
"Hey Ho's Re-Mix"--There's a bawling kitten sound that reminds me of the sound my Mac fan makes. It distracts me from understanding how busta simps are fuckin' up the game.
"Nigga Don't Get No Bigga"--The sex might be meaningless and loveless, but at least it's consensual.
"Punk Bitch"--Wherein Tiny T explains the origin of his sobriquet: he stands only five feet five inches tall. A simplistic bump without the grind.
"Hollar At Ya Boy"--L.A. meets FL meets TX and cooks up that rarest of dishes: the disappointing enchilada.
Another use of "cock" in place of vagina. No, I will never get used to that. The hook is handled by an actual young boy, whom I would like to thank for not allowing my interest to flag.
"Suck On"--Fuck off.
"Stop the Ho"--Who's the Isley stepbrother convinced he's sprinkling paprika on the proceedings this evening? Because I want to erect a statue to his self-delusion.
"Yo Gal"--Has all the replay value of a used rubber.
"Ain't No Luv"--I know Tiny T didn't want me to think of diapers when he talks about refusing to "pamper a slut," but hey, the artist can't control how their work will be received.
"Throde Off"--An amateurish cluster-bomb produced by Dr. Dre's cousin's attorney.
"All That Shit"--Hey, Sexx Fiends named a song after what I say every time I pass the Scotch section at a liquor store!
When your doorbell begins dying, sample it.
An album by "Sexx Fiends" should be hardcore in every facet. The language should be filthy and explicit. The beats should bang in any setting. The sexism should inspire me to make my grill a "No Hot Dogs" zone. You failed, Sexx Fiends.
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