Music Lists

Doja Cat's 10 Best Lyrics

Doja's wordplay game is unparalleled.

Doja Cat's Spotify Profile Pic

You might know her from her viral "Moooo" music video about being a cow, but Doja Cat has a strong catalogue of catchy songs.

With her two smash hits "Say So" and "Juicy" rising up in the charts, Doja Cat is here to stay. With witty word play and cutting commentary, here are the top ten Doja Cat verses that are just straight fire.

10. "Cookie Jar"

Doja Cat holding her treat

He call me Oreo, break it and lick the flavor off,

It's my modern life, make me wanna find some Rocko nig

F*ck talkin', she record that, Pokémon Go, you Snorlax

You won't get these sweets again, like Violet, you childish

These explicit verses from Doja Cat's song about being a snack reference four bomb things: the classic Oreo cookie, the iconic 90's cartoon "Rocko's Modern Life," the addictive Pokemon app, and Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. We can't help but stan, since she gave homage to the pillars of pop culture and our 90s childhood.

9. "Rules"

Doja Cat bringing some snake action in her "Rules" music video

Wanna shake that ass

I'ma do this sh*t in slow motion

Look at me like I'm alien

B*itch, I'm f*cking reptilian

You have to love that Doja Cat references Mystikal's "Shake Ya Ass" and Juvenile's "Slow Motion" from the golden era of the early 2000s. But what impresses most in this song is Doja throwing some conspiracy bars. Apparently, celebs, high ranking politicians, and world leaders are actually from an alien reptilian race that are able to shape-shift and control the world. Haven't you seen Justin Bieber's "reptilian" video?

8. "Moo"

Classic Doja Cat snapshot of her 2018 viral "Moo" music video

Milkshake brings all the boys to the farm

And they're like, it's better than yours

Damn right, it's better than yours

I can treat you, but I have to charge

It's not just the fact that Doja references Kelis' fire song "Milkshake," but a milkshake is also...wait for it...dairy. It just fits so seamlessly.

7. "No Police"

Doja Cat's cover art for her 2014 debut album

Like, all these bars, no police

Whee-ooh whee-ooh, whee-ooh whee-ooh

He calls me copper tone

Smoking ultraviolet

We turn off the phone

I'm in autopilot

Make that disappear

Mr. Copperfield

As Doja Cat makes clear in her songs, she also likes to smoke weed so it makes sense she talks about smoking ultraviolet and just vibing in "autopilot". the fact that she references renowned magician/illusionist David Copperfield in a song about bars but no police (meaning her verses) is a nice touch considering Copperfield has done plenty of illusions and tricks with chains/shackles. Doja has a talent for referencing popular figures way past her time (she's only 24!).

6. "Streets"

Doja Cat looking like a queen in her Vevo Live session of "Streets"

When other chickens tryna get in my coop

'Cause you're a one in a million, there ain't no man like you

Send your location, come through

Another pop culture reference to the late singer Aaliyah. One of her hits was a song titled "One in a Million" (which is also the title of her sophomore album) which discussed the topic of love and commitment. The line about the chickens and coop is hilarious since Doja is comparing her love interest to a rooster -- there's no room for other chickens or ladies. Of course, the line about sending the location is a throwback to R&B/pop singer Khalid's "Location."

5. "All Nighter"

Doja Cat feelin' herself in this edgy, denim look

Practice, knee-deep in your tactic

Back it up, beep beep, no U-Haul

Tossed salad, no cheese, no croutons

Said it don't taste cheap, no coupon

Doja has plenty of dirty lyrics and this one just walks the line of extremely explicit and hilarious. From the "Beep Beep" line as she backs it up (with no U-Haul) for her partner, to the notion of a tossed salad. Basically, Doja Cat wants y'all to know she's high quality and delicious if you catch my drift.

4. "Addiction"

"Addiction" is from Doja Cat's newest album "Hot Pink"

We could get that white girl lit like Madonna

Bitch, I ain't Gwen but this shit is bananas

It's only right that Doja Cat references the Queen of Pop herself Madonna when she's talking about getting white girl wasted. Madonna did release a song titled "Bitch I'm Madonna" where she's just dancing and partying all night with every celeb— even Beyonce! The line about shit getting crazy calls for that flawless Gwen Stefani feature. I think we can all agree that "Hollaback Girl" helped us all spell bananas.

3. "Tia Tamera" Ft. Rico Nasty

Doja Cat and Rico Nasty having fun in the "Tia Tamera" music video

Cheese like pizzeria, have a seat bitch, please, Ikea

From the Westside like Maria, I'm hot like grits, Madea

Beat the pussy up call PETA, I rock the boat like Aaliyah

West Side Story, IKEA, Tyler Perry's iconic Madea character, and singer Aaliyah are an odd combo but the rhyme is priceless and pretty accurate considering Doja Cat is making bank, from the west side (born and raised in LA), and up and coming or "hot" now. She's "rocked the boat" with minor controversies and even gets a little political with PETA. It's a nice touch since Doja loves and has cats in real life. Not to mention, the song title is a reference to celeb twins Tia and Tamera Mowry and, according to Doja, her big boobs. Only Doja Cat can sing about her assets in such memorable fashion.

2. "Cyber Sex"

Doja Cat petting her kitty in her "Cyber Sex" music video

We freak on the cam

Love at first sight, just a link to the 'Gram

Met him on Tinder, he just swiped left on bitches

And he don't even scroll through Insta

'Less he going through my pictures

You a creep, I saw you on Dateline

You ain't gettin pussy, you fucking a A.I

Huh-oh, what a time to be alive

Living in the future, blinging on my hotline

This Doja Cat song about sexting is truly underrated. In this day and age, technology is vital to a healthy dating life. The lines talking about Instagram, Tinder, and freaking on camera is on point considering that we all send pics (not to mention the high probability you'll get nudes pretty quickly once you match online). Talking about creeps like the ones on Dateline news and the whole A.I. argument is straight fire. The Drake "hotline bling" reference in regards to Doja's line going off in this digital age is just *chef's kiss*. Not to mention, she includes Facetime in her song when she talks about head. I mean, it's a banger all around, no pun intended.

1. "Juicy"

Doja Cat and all her juicy fruits

He beg for that, I bend and snap

She keep it juicy just for papi, call me Buffy with the body

I just slipped into my savage and come over like a walkie

Like her song about her boobs, "Juicy" discusses Doja's other assets—her ass. What is there not to love? Doja sings about Legally Blonde with her bend and snap line which we all know is a tactic to get a guy's attention. If that's not enough nostalgia, Doja brings up Buffy the Vampire Slayer cause Doja is slayin' with her curvy body that she keeps thick or "juicy" for her man. But the Crème de la crème is the fact that Doja Cat slips into Rihanna's Savage x Fenty lingerie to come over to his place like a "walkie." What do we say when we talk on a walkie? We say "over."

Needless to say, you should be proud to stan a quirky, confident, and talented queen like Amala Zandile Dlamini—the one and only Doja Cat.

Doja Cat showing off her ASS-ets flawlessly

Now that you've flooded Instagram with photos of black squares, it's time to hunker down for some real activism.

If you're a white person, you're sitting on top of about four centuries of institutionalized racism. In the wake of George Floyd's murder by police and countless Black Lives Matter protests across the nation, it's time to show up—with your body, with your voice, and with your brain.

Keep Reading Show less
MUSIC

Do I Dislike Selena Gomez's "Rare" Because I Hate Women?

A review of Selena Gomez's "Rare" and an interrogation of said review.

The Review

Selena Gomez's first full-length album since 2015 is out today.

It's supposed to be a comeback, a declaration of strength and self-love following a destructive relationship, and it fulfills this task admirably.

Rare is... fine. It offers an inspiring message about healing and growth, and it's a marked improvement from Gomez's previous work. Many of these songs will make exquisite soundtracks in grocery stores, malls, and clubs. They're danceable, energized but not excessive. They're easy listening, poised to go down like a sugary cocktail or a Xanax. Amidst the fluff, there are high points. "Vulnerable" is pristine emotional pop in the vein of Carly Rae Jepsen, and it's cut through with the quiet strength that seems to form the album's crux. "Lose You to Love Me" is also an exception. It's heavy with intense high drama, laden with the kind of lush choral embellishments that often soundtracked those odd American Idol finale performances.

With that said, Rare is fairly generic, rather restrained, and definitely designed to fill a specific niche. It's slightly kitschy, limp pop, studded with lyrics like, "I'm breaking hearts like a heart attack / wrap 'round my finger like a ring." Gomez often sings quickly, adopting a kind of speak-sing tone that can feel at odds with the delicate fragility of her voice.

Sometimes this recipe works, but sometimes it collapses in on itself. Songs like "Let Me Get Me" are almost hellishly claustrophobic in the way that they repeat the same motif over and over, staying within the same three to five-note range. The same goes for "Kinda Crazy," which is exhaustingly repetitive and surprisingly stagnant, especially for an album that's supposed to be about finding one's power and worth. Sonically, there are light touches of reggaeton and R&B, but mostly the album stays strictly in a pop landscape that would've fit in better two decades ago. Against today's multi-genre landscape, it falls flat, especially when considered against the infinite amount of other music that is perpetually grasping for a fraction of the kind of attention that Rare is getting.

Overall, the album lacks sonic and thematic depth, mostly offering platitudes about getting over a lover who doesn't care enough, never really diving into the ragged parts of Gomez's psyche. She's not obligated, of course, to share her feelings with anyone. But the problem is that Rare feels almost cyborgian in its detachment (though not in a purposeful Caroline Polachek way; instead, it feels like Gomez was trying and failing to be very real on Rare).

Selena Gomez - Rare (Official Music Video) www.youtube.com

The Reflection

As I wrote this, I began to wonder something. Why, really, does Selena Gomez's music bother me so much? It would be delusional to say that the entirety of my distaste is solely based on the quality of her music. If that was the case, it would've been easier for me to ignore the album entirely.

Honestly, I recognize this brand of distaste. It's the same dislike that turned me against similarly generic pop stars like early Miley Cyrus, Taylor Swift when she went pop, and the Dua Lipas and Camila Cabellos of today. So maybe the better question is: Why do I dislike the Selena Gomezes of the world so much? Why is this specific kind of mainstream, female-driven pop so abrasive to me and so many others? Am I being sexist for writing this? Am I missing something?

As a writer, I think it's important to acknowledge that every observation I make is colored by my own individual experiences and biases. Every opinion has deep roots, and many are born in our formative years. Perhaps I dislike aggressively "likable" pop queens like Selena Gomez because they remind me of how much I disliked the beautiful, popular girls that crowded my youth. Knowing I could never be them, I began listening to indie music, rejecting the pop juggernaut and beginning the inevitable downward spiral that would culminate in a move to Brooklyn. I disliked them (the girls and the pop stars, who were somehow united in my mind) because they appeared happy (even if they were not), and in love, and flush with money and resources and keratined hair.

In Roxane Gay's essay "Not Here to Make Friends," she criticizes the ideal of the "likable" female character, writing, "I want characters to do the things I am afraid to do for fear of making myself more unlikable than I may already be. I want characters to be the most honest of all things—human."

She goes on to critique the very ideal of "likeability" in literary criticism, a point that certainly extends to music criticism. Whether someone is "likable" or "unlikable" shouldn't influence how we hear music, but yet at least under our current economic system, likability—and in Selena Gomez's case, likes themselves—are a form of currency, so inevitably it will influence our perception. Perhaps the ideal of the vibrant, sociable, super-likeable woman is something I was taught, early on, that I couldn't live up to—and so I began to idealize difficult, unlikeable, unruly characters.

I've wondered if there was some internalized sexism to this, some woman-hatred rooted in my own frustration with the unattainable ideal that these pop goddesses and their generic music presented. I don't think I'm alone in feeling scarred by the envy and competitiveness with other girls and women that we are taught, as young girls, to nurture. Capitalism teaches us to hate other women, and to hold ourselves to impossible ideals that would fall apart if we let go of the desire to compete and attain said ideal. It teaches us that no matter what we have (and I had a lot), we need to become something more.

So maybe I dislike Selena Gomez's album because—even though she's come clean about her own personal struggles many times—her sound and image feel inextricable from the pristine pop music she creates. Her music reminds me of the emotionless, simulacra-like absence of genuine feeling or creativity that I instinctively associate with many of the people I grew up with. It brings me back to the suburban conformity and perma-smiles I used to blindly long to escape.

If anything, I think that my dislike of Selena Gomez's music is rooted less in sexism and more in a frustration with the space between who I am and who Selena Gomez is branded to be or what she represents in my mind—a space that, whether it's real or imagined, feels infinite. Even if authenticity is an illusion, the Gomez of Rare feels saccharine, glossy, and half-alive, devoid of some internal life-force that powers most of the music I love. Even though I know that Gomez has struggled with anxiety, depression and a variety of illnesses, the space she occupies in my mind is that of a hyperreal object, a chimera who exists more as a projection of a nonexistent ideal than anything else.

Maybe I just don't like the album. After all, I love Kim Petras, Carly Rae Jepsen, new and old Kesha, Rihanna, and Lady Gaga; and more recently, Billie Eilish and Lizzo have come to symbolize my greatest hopes for pop.

Regardless, none of this will change the fact that Gomez (with her 165 million Instagram followers in tow) is currently topping the charts and going viral. And I understand that although Selena Gomez's album sounds shallow and a bit like meaningless drivel to me, it's going to be vitally important to a lot of folks. It's going to uplift the spirits of people across the world, walking home from school or working in restaurants, playing out in bars and Lyfts and doing what pop music does best, which is making the painfulness of everyday life a little more bearable, adding a spring to the step of everyone who hears it, smoothing out the kinks, and plastering illusory iridescent wallpaper over the rough greyness of the everyday.

Selena Gomez - A Sweeter Place (Official Lyrics) ft. Kid Cudi www.youtube.com

In Conclusion

Not every album has to be an exhausting excavation of the soul or a collage of a million different sonic influences. There is a place for iridescent fabrication. Perhaps Selena Gomez puts it best on "A Sweeter Place" when she sings, "Is there a place where I can hide away? Red lips, french kiss my worries all away. There must be a sweeter place / We can sugarcoat the taste."

She could be speaking about her own music, or her own life, which both present an illusion, a place to hide, a soft world where growth and healing can happen. Of course we're left with questions; who gets to experience this kind of healing, and who gets left behind in the end?