FIRST PERSON SHOOTERS SUCK! A parody video by Smosh. Check out more funny videos on their channel by clicking the source link!
(Source: youtube.com)
Here it is! “2k” a parody of Rebecca Black’s “Friday”. Written, Performed and recorded by yours truly. I hope you enjoy it. I had so much fun with this! haha
Let me know what you think!
Croker
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http://www.purevolume.com/Croker
Lyrics:
5am waking up in the morning
Gotta get dressed, gotta find spandex
Gotta have my bowl, gotta have oatmeal
Seeing everything the time is goin’
Tickin’ on and on, everybody’s rushin’
Gotta get down to the boathouse
Gotta find my boat, I see my crew
Settin’ rate at stroke seat
Tappin’ it in bow seat
Gotta make up my mind
Which seat can I take?
We’re Rowing, Rowing
Set this boat keep rowing
Everybody’s lookin’ forward to the 2k, 2k
Rowing, Rowing
Ignore that crab keep rowing
Everybody’s looking forward to the 2k, 2k
Power 10, Power 10 (yeah)
Power 10, Power 10 (yeah)
Stroke, Stroke, Stroke, Stroke
Lookin’ forward to the 2k
7:15 gettin’ off of the water
Up and over heads, Skew and down to shoulders
Coxswain calls the next call
You know what it is
Walk it out, walk it out
Hands out, watch the riggers
Low heads now, low heads now
Put it into racks
Settin’ rate at stroke seat
Tappin’ it in bow seat
Gotta make up my mind
Which seat can I take?
Chorus
Yesterday was Monday, Monday
Today it is Tuesday, Tuesday
We, we, we so terrified now
So terrified now
Ergs set up in the bay
Thinkin’ about fakin’ sick
Coach, do we really have to?
I just want this erg test to end!
Chorus
And Lestrade’s like, “they’re better than ours.”
Damn right, they’re better than yours.
I would charge you, but I don’t need an incentive, thank you.
Moriarty’s Pumped Up Kicks
A parody, if it wasn’t obvious. I had a lot of fun making this.
Lyrics:
I know you’ve got a quick mind
You’ll look around the room, who knows what you’ll find?
See, you’ve got quite a pet
Hangin’ off your arm, perfect target
And now, you can’t hide or run
You’ve gone too far, but we’ll have some fun
And you won’t even know what
What’s comin’ for you, I’m comin’ for you, yeah
All the other feet
Out on London’s streets
Better run, better run
Outrun my gun
If you want your feet
Back on Baker Street
Better solve, better solve
Faster than my snipers
All the other kids
with their crimes undid
better hush, better hush
don’t speak my name
But now I’ve got to bid
Thirty million quid
just to get, just to get
you playin’ my game
Sherlock works a long day
He’s comin’ home late, he’s comin’ home late
And he’s bringin’ me a surprise
Bruce-Partington plans on a flash drive
I’ve waited for a long time
The slight of my hand is now a troop of snipers
I reason with your little pet
I’ll set your heart on fire, gonna burn it out, yeah
All the other feet
Out on London’s streets
Better run, better run
Outrun my gun
If you want your feet
Back on Baker Street
Better move, better move
Faster than my snipers
Thought that I was dull
But I’m changeable
Get away, get away
Wish you’d stop tryin’
Maybe now your fate
We’ll negotiate
‘Cause, come on, it’s for John
Now can’t you stop pryin’?
But the flirting’s over, Sherlock, daddy’s had enough now. I’ve shown you what I can do, I cut loose all those people, all those little problems, even 30 million quid just to get you to come out and play. So take this as a friendly warning… my dear. Back off. Although, I have loved this — this little game of ours, playing Jim from IT, playing gay. Did you like the little touch with the underwear?
All the other feet
Out on London’s streets
Better run, better run
Outrun my gun
If you want your feet
Back on Baker Street
Better move, better move
Faster than my snipers
All the other feet
Out on London’s streets
Better run, better run
Outrun my gun
If you want your feet
Back on Baker Street
Better move, better move
Faster than my snipers
No one gets to me
Not to Moriarty
But you’re close, very close
Knew you had it in you
Oh, it’s such a shame
That our little game
Has to come to an end,
You just can’t continue
Hey There John Watson
Post-Reichenbach. Angst. Lots of it. (Sherlock’s POV)
Lyrics:
Hey there, John Watson, what’s it like back home in London
I’m five thousand miles away, but, John, tonight I’m coming undone
And it’s true
Though barely living in refuge
It’s all I can do
Hey there, John Watson, don’t you worry about the distance
Call my phone and give my answering machine another listen
Close your eyes
Listen to my voice, it’ll suffice
I’m by your side
Oh, it’s what you do to me
Oh, it’s what you do to me
Oh, it’s what you do to me
Oh, it’s what you do to me
What you do to me
Hey there, John Watson, I know times are getting hard
But please believe in me, some day I’ll pay a visit at your door
We’ll have it good
We’ll have the life we thought we would
I know we could
Hey there, John Watson, I’ve got so much left to say
And I wish more than anything that I could take this pain away
I’d risk it all
To know Moran one day would fall
And we’d have it all
Oh, it’s what you do to me
Oh, it’s what you do to me
Oh, it’s what you do to me
Oh, it’s what you do to me
Five thousand miles seems pretty far
But once our safety is assured
I’ll walk to you if I have no other way
The Yarders once made fun of us
But we just laughed along because
We knew not one of them had felt this way
John, my friend, I promise you
That if I ever make it
221B will never be same
Am I to blame?
Hey there, John Watson, you be good, and don’t you mind me
Give me time and I’ll be home again
And we’ll be touring crime scenes
Like we do
You’ll know it’s all because of you
Few years, we’ll be like we used to
Hey there, John Watson, here’s to you
I’ll make it up to you
Oh, it’s what you do to me
Oh, it’s what you do to me
Oh, it’s what you do to me
Oh, it’s what you do to me
What you do to me, oh
Me and Mr. Holmes
Parody of “Me and Mr. Jones” by Amy Winehouse. John’s POV. Johnny-boy’s a bit jealous of Miss Adler, oh my.
Lyrics:
Nobody stands
inbetween me and my man
It’s me and Mr. Holmes
(Me and Mr. Holmes)
What kind of fuckery is this?
You made me miss your loneliness (loneliness)
You thought no one could love you when I did (when I did)
Can’t believe you played it out like that
Guess I ain’t worth stressin’
Not to that American girl you kissed (girl you kissed)
You can’t keep lying to yourself like this (to yourself)
Can’t believe you lost to that Adler bitch
You forgot me, like at Brixton
But nobody stands inbetween me and my man
‘Cause it’s me and Mr. Holmes
(Me and Mr. Holmes)
What kind of flatmates are we?
Nowadays you won’t do shit for me (shit for me)
I might let you make it all up to me (make it up)
How’s dinner Saturday?
What kind of sociopath are you?
Hypnotizing with your jet-black do (jet-black do)
But I could swear I’d no chance with you
I still want to do bad things to you
You’re my destiny
At 221B
Nobody stands inbetween me and my man
‘Cause it’s me and Mr. Holmes
(Me and Mr. Holmes)
