Don’t @ Me
electro swing, swing house, vintage pop, sassy jazz, big band trap, retro-futuristic pop, cabaret pop, clear vocals, burlesque beats, brass hop, jazz-hop, electro jazz, flapper trap, roaring twenties
Feline Music [Youtube: @FelineMusicYey]·2:55
2:55
Don’t @ Me
electro swing, swing house, vintage pop, sassy jazz, big band trap, retro-futuristic pop, cabaret pop, clear vocals, burlesque beats, brass hop, jazz-hop, electro jazz, flapper trap, roaring twenties
Creator: Feline Music [Youtube: @FelineMusicYey]Release Date: April 12, 2025
Lyrics
[Intro]
Mmm…
Hot takes in the microwave...
Ooh, yeah—let it simmer...
[Verse 1]
The Beatles? Mid. Sorry—not sorry.
Uh-huh, give me Charli XCX at a party.
Vinyl? Crackle crackle, sounds like eggs,
And you paid forty bucks? Tsk—get wrecked.
Marvel? Meh. Just capes and quips,
Too many movies, same ol’ scripts.
AI made this beat I’m on—
Oh! Guess what? It slaps. Sing along!
[Pre-Chorus]
Oooh, I got thoughts—(pause)
Spicy and loud, and they don’t get bought.
You can clutch your pearls... cute,
Or dance with me—
But I’m not here to play it neat, oh no.
[Chorus]
Don’t @ me, hotter than your takeout,
Screamin’ at the table like a holiday breakout.
Pineapple? On pizza? Yes please.
Dogs? Fine. But cats got degrees.
Auto-Tune’s art—your fave? Just missed it.
Top 10 list? Nah—I remixed it.
Say it with flair, say it with sass,
Not every elder deserves a pass.
[Verse 2]
College debt—for a drama degree?
Congrats! Now you’re broke and artsy.
Avocados? Pfft—green air.
Overhyped fruit with influencer flair.
Self-care? Just candles and lies,
Capitalism in a soft girl disguise.
Astrology? Please—I’m a Virgo rising,
But I blame my flaws on bad Wi-Fi timing.
[Pre-Chorus]
Oooh, here comes the heat—
Might lose a friend or three this week.
But I’d rather roast than fake a smile—
Cancel me, baby, I go out in style. Mmm-hmm.
[Chorus]
Don’t @ me, spicier than drama,
Unfiltered like a tweet from your mama.
Ranch? Ew. And chocolate’s bland—
Fight me now, or shake my hand.
Kids with iPads? Gonna grow up weird.
Elon? Not a genius, just a billionaire beard.
Say it with flair, say it with snap,
Not every coworker deserves a dap.
[Bridge]
Look—I’m not mean, I’m just right,
Your playlist’s dry and your pasta’s light.
Respect ain’t free 'cause you turned 60,
And hustle culture? Yeah, that’s just tricksy.
Beyoncé slays—but let’s admit,
She hums better than she hits.
Deep talks? Meh—I like my tea petty.
Now hand me the mic—I'm gettin’ ready.
[Final Chorus]
Don’t @ me, hotter than your secrets,
Sayin’ what you thought—but never dared to speak it.
Cancel me? I’ll headline a tour,
With merch that says "You're insecure."
Music’s fine—even when it’s trashy,
Video games? Way more classy.
Say it with shade, say it with glee—
I’m not your fave, but I’m finally free.
[Outro]
This song brought to you by:
Three espresso shots,
One group chat exit,
And zero regrets.
Don't @ me.
Mmm…
Hot takes in the microwave...
Ooh, yeah—let it simmer...
[Verse 1]
The Beatles? Mid. Sorry—not sorry.
Uh-huh, give me Charli XCX at a party.
Vinyl? Crackle crackle, sounds like eggs,
And you paid forty bucks? Tsk—get wrecked.
Marvel? Meh. Just capes and quips,
Too many movies, same ol’ scripts.
AI made this beat I’m on—
Oh! Guess what? It slaps. Sing along!
[Pre-Chorus]
Oooh, I got thoughts—(pause)
Spicy and loud, and they don’t get bought.
You can clutch your pearls... cute,
Or dance with me—
But I’m not here to play it neat, oh no.
[Chorus]
Don’t @ me, hotter than your takeout,
Screamin’ at the table like a holiday breakout.
Pineapple? On pizza? Yes please.
Dogs? Fine. But cats got degrees.
Auto-Tune’s art—your fave? Just missed it.
Top 10 list? Nah—I remixed it.
Say it with flair, say it with sass,
Not every elder deserves a pass.
[Verse 2]
College debt—for a drama degree?
Congrats! Now you’re broke and artsy.
Avocados? Pfft—green air.
Overhyped fruit with influencer flair.
Self-care? Just candles and lies,
Capitalism in a soft girl disguise.
Astrology? Please—I’m a Virgo rising,
But I blame my flaws on bad Wi-Fi timing.
[Pre-Chorus]
Oooh, here comes the heat—
Might lose a friend or three this week.
But I’d rather roast than fake a smile—
Cancel me, baby, I go out in style. Mmm-hmm.
[Chorus]
Don’t @ me, spicier than drama,
Unfiltered like a tweet from your mama.
Ranch? Ew. And chocolate’s bland—
Fight me now, or shake my hand.
Kids with iPads? Gonna grow up weird.
Elon? Not a genius, just a billionaire beard.
Say it with flair, say it with snap,
Not every coworker deserves a dap.
[Bridge]
Look—I’m not mean, I’m just right,
Your playlist’s dry and your pasta’s light.
Respect ain’t free 'cause you turned 60,
And hustle culture? Yeah, that’s just tricksy.
Beyoncé slays—but let’s admit,
She hums better than she hits.
Deep talks? Meh—I like my tea petty.
Now hand me the mic—I'm gettin’ ready.
[Final Chorus]
Don’t @ me, hotter than your secrets,
Sayin’ what you thought—but never dared to speak it.
Cancel me? I’ll headline a tour,
With merch that says "You're insecure."
Music’s fine—even when it’s trashy,
Video games? Way more classy.
Say it with shade, say it with glee—
I’m not your fave, but I’m finally free.
[Outro]
This song brought to you by:
Three espresso shots,
One group chat exit,
And zero regrets.
Don't @ me.