Spencetology

Ain’t Fancy

I grew up in a trailer park. True. My mom and her four kids struggling to get by at the Spencerville Mobile Estates in Penn Valley, California. The only time the word “fancy” came up was when we got a can of “fancy” cling peaches. We were decidedly un-fancy.

When writing a parody of Iggy Azalea’s “Fancy”, it wasn’t that difficult to write “Ain’t Fancy.” It’s my life. I got my shoes at Payless Shoe Source. I grew up on a diet of cheese whiz and potato chips. The only think I could fit in was gov’t cheese and powdered milk. Actually, the cheese was always pretty good…the powdered milk? Not so much. And…frankly, I still don’t even know who this Kenneth Cole guy is.
 

 
Here be the lyrics:

First things first, I clip coupons (Coupons)
On a date, damn straight it’s a Groupon (It’s a Groupon)
Yellow mustard not Grey Poupon
From a small town and I be sleeping’ on a futon. (Right, right)
Bought a dinette set off Craiglist (Hah)
No Tag Heuer got a Seiko on my wrist (Yeah!)
Bag of Lays, cup of Boone’s, love Cheese Whiz
Good deals, cheap meals, T-J Maxx, filet-o-fish (Filet-o-Fish)
Payless Shoes where I always get my kicks at (Always)
Ridin’ dirty in my ’88 hatchback (What?!?)
Eating dinner, no place mat
Your P-B-R’s spillin, bro don’t waste that.

I’m not fancy. No Kenneth Cole
No designer names. Hecho en Mexico
I’m not fancy. Trailer park’s my home.
I am not ashamed to live in Hendo.