Disco D, you had a somewhat promising career. You had been written up in Urb and XXL. You had a track on the last 50 Cent album. Why, oh why, would you tie your fortunes to a man whose claim to fame is knocking up a warbling bleached-out trollop? A walking punch line? A man whose very name now means "third-rate tabloid celebrity"? Even worse, why would you choose to introduce baile funk to the masses with the Brazilian equivalent of a minstrel show? Did you not know that any song that strives to be sexy cannot use the word "titty"? Have you no shame?
Fatwa! For helping to extend this horrible man's 15 seconds, Disco D, you have shown yourself to be an enemy of music. May you spend the afterlife on the cover of Hell's Us Weekly, hand-in-hand with your man. Headline: "Celebrities are just like us: They scream under the fiery lash of Mammon." It is written.
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