Lizzo Shows What Her Body Can Do on New Video for "Tempo (feat. Missy Elliot)"

In the video, you'll find plenty of twerking, glittering lingerie, and neon lights—and the opposite of shame.

Lizzo has graced everyone's Friday morning with her new video for "Tempo (feat. Missy Elliot)."

In typical Lizzo fashion, our patron saint of self-confidence continues to do revolutionary work by destroying fatphobic stereotypes and proclaiming her undying love for her figure and the music that best shows it off when she dances.

"Some songs ain't for skinny hoes," she says, rocking a red cowboy hat and bedazzled lingerie. On a lesser star, it might look performative, like trying too hard to be some kind of body positive icon, but Lizzo's performances always transcend shallow constructs like body positivity or purely appearance-focused joy. Instead, Lizzo focuses her attention on what her body can do—and clearly, her body was made to move.

Missy Elliot's feature takes the song to a new level, placing Elliot's bars over dramatic synths. When they come together with other dancers and start literally defying gravity, somehow it doesn't seem faked. In a way, they've all been floating the whole time.

Lizzo - Tempo (feat. Missy Elliott) [Official Music Video]

This video's release comes a day after Lizzo told Cosmopolitan that depression nearly prevented her from releasing music,. "The day I released 'Truth Hurts' was probably one of the darkest days I've had ever in my career," she said. "I remember thinking, 'If I quit music now, nobody would notice. This is my best song ever, and nobody cares. I was like, 'F— it, I'm done.'

That dark time was only the beginning of a stratospheric rise to success. "Now the song that made me want to quit is the song that everyone's falling in love with me for, which is such a testament to journeys: Your darkest day turns into your brightest triumph," she said.

Later in the interview, she said that she'd be happy to star on The Bachelorette, under one condition. "The men would have to be naked and they would have to wear little thong briefs and they would have to feed me grapes," she said. Also, "It would be mandatory to get my p---y eaten at least once on the whole season, and it would have to be filmed."

Today, between her radically honest interviews and radiant, twerk-heavy videos, Lizzo is one of pop's brightest and most tradition-bucking stars. Next up, she'll be starring in the stripper-revenge drama Hustlers, alongside Cardi B and Jennifer Lopez, in theaters 9/13.


Hollywood’s legendary Sunset Strip is about to get all GOOPey and shit.

Proving it really is the end of the world as we know it, Gwyneth Paltrow is going to tear down the iconic Hustler Hollywood Store and replace it with a shiny, new, annoying and expensive (because it’s Paltrow, DUH!) private members club.


According to TMZ, Gwynnie, along with her business partner, Gary Landesberg, purchased the property from Mr. Hustler himself, Larry Flynt.

Paltrow is looking to open a string of Arts Clubs—similar to the London chain of pricey, private members’ exclusive boozing boltholes—but, because it’s Paltrow, DUH! hers are apparently going to be even more exclusive and, of course, more expensive, to join. (Membership to the London Arts Clubs franchise is $2,000 to join and then $2,000 a year……..)

The original Arts Club, in Mayfair, was formed in 1863 “for gentlemen interested in arts, science and literature.”

According to Zagat, “the likes of Dickens, Liszt and Whistler have been congregating at this ‘sophisticated’ private club in Mayfair, and even today it's still one of the "hottest" spots in town.”

The club has a strict dress code and prohibits swearing and gambling inside—but, you can play no-stakes backgammon.


Imma gonna have to go with Groucho Marx on this one, “I don’t want to belong to any club that would accept me as one of its members."


Ever been rear ended at a stop light? Then you’ve had anal sex. Basically. Look, don’t get all butt hurt. It’s just an analogy. Even the name is a blatant parallel. Rear-ended. But the commonalities don’t end there. Let’s go deeper.

I was pulling up to the intersection at Sunset Boulevard and La Cienega, ironically not far from Larry Flynt’s Hustler Store. That’s when I was rear-ended. All too fittingly, the driver was male, late twenties. He scrambled out of his silver Lexus to assess the damage. As he hunched over to inspect my bumper, déjà vu set in. I’d been here before. Not here exactly, but some place so much like it, it was eerie. .

There I was, cruising along, maybe even enjoying the ride, perhaps even singing along to a song on the radio: “You’s a big fine woman, won’t you back that thing up? La la la, doodoodoo, something, something..”

BAM!!! I was slammed into. At first I was startled, panicked. Even when someone is expecting it, nothing can truly prepare you for the actual impact. Before I could catch my breath I was face down in a pillow/airbag. Pick one. It doesn’t matter. It’s all the same. A few deep breaths. Thoughts raced through my mind. How extensive is this damage? Is my paint on the other person’s car? Even though I’m insured, how protected am I really? Nothing’s fool proof. What if the insurance doesn’t cover this type of collision and I’m stuck with the damage? The dust is settling now. Time to face my assailant. Awkwardness settles in. Is he gonna ask for my number? Will he give me his card? Will I have to ask for it? At some point we should exchange paper work, right? Is this guy safe? Are there marks on his license? Does this mean that now, I too will have marks on my nethers? I mean license?

For now, it’s over. He’s gone, and I’m alone. I wake up the next morning, a little sore.

“But there are more nerve endings in the first part of the butt than the back of the vagina,” insists Tristan Taormino, author of The Ultimate Guide to Anal Sex for Women and czar of her own ass empire.

Hey Tristan, there’s a lot of nerve endings in my eye socket. Doesn’t mean I want a dick in there. Tristan also explained that if the sphincter is too tight to accommodate a penis, one can train their butt muscles to relax with the help of a butt plug. If I'm going to spend my time training something, it's not going to be my butt. Unless I can train it to microwave a Hot Pocket. Still, that seems unsanitary. And you shouldn’t eat while you’re driving anyway.