Not only did he create everyone's first pun about breasts, he went one further than "boobs" and used "boobies." "Boobs" is awful enough, but "boobies" adds a layer of clown makeup and a child's pinwheel toy. People preach about rap music destroying moral values, but I think we should really be focusing on will.i.am making it OK for millions of teens to use the word "boobies." The next generation is doomed. Oh, look! A "Can You Identify These '90s Nickelodeon Cartoons?" quiz! JACKPOT.

Don't wanna squeeze trigger
Just wanna squeeze tits

Despite the word usage, this is a fairly admirable cause. But good intentions aside, it doesn't change the fact that will.i.am's revolutionary "Squeeze tits, not war" campaign sounds like a "cool" Facebook status that I'd write in ninth grade, just before deleting it because I remembered that I was friends with my dad.

Mommy looking good from her head to her feet
She 44, but she still looking sweet
And you can tell her daughter ain't even at her peak
'Cause her momma lookin' so hot, packin' that heat
So be a good girl and thank your momma

There's nothing legally wrong with "I Got It From My Mama," because the daughter that will.i.am describes is 24. But there are so many social obligations that are tossed away to make this rap scenario come alive, the first being to not ask a girl to thank her mom for the hotness that she'll eventually inherit. I've never said, "I see where she gets her good looks from!" to a girlfriend's mother, and I'll probably refrain from adding, "You should thank her for that. Really. Your mom is the reason that I get so many erections," if I ever do.

Listening to Juicy J rap about sex is magical. It's like when I was young and at the pool and I would watch people jump off the diving board and do a million flips before hitting the water. They grasped something about gravity and momentum and body movement that I never will, and so has Juicy J, in all of the aforementioned areas. I don't know how sex with Juicy J normally goes, but I imagine it being akin to playing chess with those guys who know how to win in six moves, while you're still sitting there trying to figure out if the king goes on the left or right of the queen.

She gon' be my Sleeping Beauty
I'm gonna put her in a coma

That is some third-degree fuckin', Juicy J. I don't know how much I would appreciate the "being put into a coma" part, though. Twenty years from now, all of Juicy J's girlfriends are gonna wake up and wonder A) why their families are crying tears of joy around the hospital bed, and B) if Juicy J is ever going to text them back.

Let me slide in between and park my stretch limousine

The only way this metaphor works is if Juicy J is referring to the fact that parking a limo is difficult and requires a ton of reversing and pulling forward in order to fit into a spot. Hopefully, though, this "limo maneuver" is just one of his many sex tricks, where he inserts and then waits for 30 minutes, checking his phone and looking out the window every once in a while.

With a smile on your face from ear-to-ear
And a tattoo that says "Juicy J Was Here"

I assume that he's talking about semen here, but if he isn't, then I've come one step closer to solving the case of "Sherlock Holmes And Where Has Juicy J Been?" But semen talk, like breasts, is tricky, except in a different way. In rap, bigger is usually better, but once you leave the realm of "delicately" when alluding to your copious sperming, every image that you conjure is just a cream-of-mushroom disaster. And, taking it literally, "Juicy J Was Here" is going to need steady aim and a supply large enough to ease worries about wasting some.

Of course, the more horrifying angle is that he's being literal. In which case, he's either saying that his method of sex is so good and so distracting, the woman doesn't notice that he's tattooing her ass, or he's saying that he bones so well, the woman feels like she owes it to him to allow that tattoo to happen.

I'm so fly, I'm getting head like a blow dryer

I understand all of the intricacies of this simile, but may I recommend an alternative -- namely, anything that doesn't end with "dryer." I've owned genitals for a decent bit, and "hot, dry heat" and "friction" is the best way to prompt a negative answer when asking myself, "Should I be in my current situation?"

This is just the title of a song that includes mentions of going "into the deep end." However, it displays such a feeling of sincerity that I can't help but applaud it and wish that I was a better person. If I ever wrote a song called "Having Sex," I'm sure that it would be a slightly bearded and surely guitared affair where I ironically sang about all the joys of having sex in a way that put a damper on hip hop, comedy, and sex, all at the same time. But when Juicy J does it, it's just a song about having sex. It doesn't have time to knowingly nudge you in the arm and ask you about your favorite craft beers. I can support that.

For my 26th birthday, I received a life-size, cardboard Pitbull, which now resides in my office.

My friends got it for me as a testament to how inexplicably fascinated I am with Pitbull, the man and the myth. With a few rappers, you hear their songs and you think, "I could see that happening." With every Pitbull rap, you can't help but wonder if he's dealing out a tall tale or two. Because Pitbull's sex life, as described throughout his career, is the most exotic thing that I've ever heard of. It's a Lord Of The Rings-esque journey that spans multiple continents and vodka sponsorships, and it's all brought to you by a walking billboard. Pitbull is an advertisement for Pitbull-brand partying, and his whole life has become a study of what happens when you decide to literally forgo your normal human existence and transform into a logo.

Make women comfortable, call me bloomer
Can't even show love 'cause they'll sue ya
But I tell 'em, "Hallelujah, have a blessed day"

Let's pick apart this chapter in Pitbull's saga of sexually saturating himself into the world. He makes women comfortable, like a style of dresses might. Already, I'm not sure where he's going with this, because I doubt that Pitbull is actually saying, "I am directly related to a piece of clothing that was hugely popular in the 19th century." He then follows that up with a contradiction to the sentence that he just got finished with. If they're threatening to sue you, you're obviously not making them that comfortable, Pitbull. Or were you really that dedicated to finishing the rhyme? I know that you started out with "bloomer," but if "sue ya" is all that you could think of to come around with, maybe it would've been better to just scrap it and start over, you know? There are many other things that make women comfortable, and nearly all of the things that rhyme with them won't make it seem like you're confessing to harassment.

Pitbull ends this anecdote with what I assume is him being sarcastic to the woman who is pressing charges against him. Again, I'm not quite up to speed on what is happening, because this could be a collection of three random sentences from Pitbull's Rap Bag just as much as it's Pitbull being a jerk to the lady who told him to piss off.

Oh, you the healthy type?
Well, here goes some egg whites

Imagine, if you will, that you're participating in some kind of blindfolded taste test. You have to decide which egg whites are more delicious, and after you're finished, you can't come to a definite conclusion. "They both taste the same!" you say. "They both feel the same!"

You have your blindfold removed and you look down at the plates. They both really do look the same. "What was the point?" you ask the judges. The judges remain hushed, until one, who has conspicuously been turned away from you the whole time, reveals himself as Pitbull. "One was my semen! Haha!" he shouts at you. Everything you have ever done and everything you will ever do is negated in this one moment. The rest of your life is living death.

That's the only way to make this comparison truly applicable.

In Romania, she pulled me to the side and told me, "Pit, you can have me and my sister"

I hate to be a stickler, but how about we hear the sister with no dialogue's side of things before we go around setting up dates? Does Pit have such a penile gravitational pull that one person can't help but see him and think, "I dig this, but you know who would REALLY like this? The unaware members of my family."

Dawg, check your resume
I hit something every day

I doubt, when this whole Pitbull thing is done, that the man will ever have to find a job again. But if so, I imagine that someone will request a cover letter from Pitbull, and he'll just email back a link to his Pandora station.

I'm such a dirty, dirty dawg
My teeth will unsnap your bra

Is this Pitbull's version of being able to tie a cherry stem with his tongue? How much money do his partners spend on bras each year? Is it a simple party trick or a confession of his sole werewolf power? Dammit, Pitbull! You're just too Worldwide!

Every time Lil Wayne gets zero results for searching "L.A. Riots" on RedTube, he is deeply disappointed.

The whole of this song is Lil Wayne's attempt at rewriting the Labors Of Hercules. It's an epic Greek poem. The high point, however, is when he gets to "W" and compares Wanda to E. Honda, the sumo character from Street Fighter. It's nice to see that realms of possibility exist outside of the confines of your own brain. Hearing Lil Wayne detour into using fighting games as a way to describe a girl's sexual technique really makes you up for anything. Will "Z" be for "Zelda," because she makes you want to turn back time ever since you first felt her? There is endless potential here.

I'm a venereal disease, like a menstrual bleed

When you have an entire everything-in-the-world's worth of nicknames and colloquial terms for sex stuff, going with "venereal disease" and "menstrual bleed" isn't even scraping the bottom of the barrel. It's peeling the mold off the top of the barrel and saying, "Dinner." It's how you describe sex when you're trying to hide the gaping, toothed maw in your chest from someone.

You call that girl 7, 'cause she finna get 8.

At certain points in your life, you can't just be content with "mic drop" moments. Sometimes, you have to chuck the microphone out into the audience to nail the heads of the people who just don't get that you're Lil Wayne and that you will do whatever you want to do. "Finna get 8" is the solid dividing factor between the believers and the non-believers. On one side, you have those who will swear that "finna get 8" is the dumbest thing that they've ever heard, and on the other, you have those brave souls who will tirelessly fight for "finna get 8." If you insert that lyric into a song called "Baseball Sex," I will pledge undying loyalty. Don't ask why. Just know that, if you have to ask, we're enemies.