Nikkijj
Active member
Saw someone wrote a song about Hinch. I can't write songs. So I wrote a rhyme.
She'll call you friends, she'll call you guys,
Your ears will bleed from the constant lies.
From door-knocker earrings to garden tables
She'll sell you tat while she wears labels
She's pretends to be sweet and real and relatable
But if she's ever honest is really debateable.
She gets out of bed then gets out her phone
Sprays chemicals around her immaculate home
She's selling the dream, and SELLING's the word
But even her Kermit can't polish a turd!
She names all her cloths cos it makes her seem sweet
Then tidies the house that's always so neat
The products she's pushing are always in view
Whether eating her porridge or cleaning her loo
She's sly and dishonest, behind filters and hair
She's a caricature but her shoppers don't care
They copy, they follow, they love and adore her
While diluting our rivers with spring fresh zoflora
They don't mind the dangers or harm to their health
They just feed her ego, her conceit and her wealth.
She laughs at them all, she thinks it's so funny
And the tabloids won't touch her because of the money
So she carries on with her best life goals
And writes off her critics as bullies and trolls
But take heart dear tattlers, this too shall pass
She'll soon fall from grace and land on her ass.
And when we all witness the change to her luck
Will we hold back from gloating? Haha will I fuck!
She'll call you friends, she'll call you guys,
Your ears will bleed from the constant lies.
From door-knocker earrings to garden tables
She'll sell you tat while she wears labels
She's pretends to be sweet and real and relatable
But if she's ever honest is really debateable.
She gets out of bed then gets out her phone
Sprays chemicals around her immaculate home
She's selling the dream, and SELLING's the word
But even her Kermit can't polish a turd!
She names all her cloths cos it makes her seem sweet
Then tidies the house that's always so neat
The products she's pushing are always in view
Whether eating her porridge or cleaning her loo
She's sly and dishonest, behind filters and hair
She's a caricature but her shoppers don't care
They copy, they follow, they love and adore her
While diluting our rivers with spring fresh zoflora
They don't mind the dangers or harm to their health
They just feed her ego, her conceit and her wealth.
She laughs at them all, she thinks it's so funny
And the tabloids won't touch her because of the money
So she carries on with her best life goals
And writes off her critics as bullies and trolls
But take heart dear tattlers, this too shall pass
She'll soon fall from grace and land on her ass.
And when we all witness the change to her luck
Will we hold back from gloating? Haha will I fuck!
Last edited: