The Lyrics
Me, oh my, Bratney, my Bratney, my Bratney, my,
Your fame should die, Bratney, die Bratney, die Bratney, die!
I can't help but hate you, and I ain't gonna lie,
Your fame should die, Bratney, die Bratney, die Bratney, die.
Well, paparazzis know all that you do,
Cringed the last time when your miniskirt flew.
They're runnin' wild with shots of your lips,
I think I've lost count of your nipple slips!
Well, we could live without you and you know it's true
Kevin can't live with you, so Madonna'll do.
Justin, well he dumped you just as fast as he could,
And oops! you married Jason, but Paris, you would!
Me, oh my, Bratney, my Bratney, my Bratney, my,
Your fame should die, Bratney, die Bratney, die Bratney, die!
I can't help but hate you, and I ain't gonna lie,
Your fame should die, Bratney, die Bratney, die Bratney, die.
Tell me why, Bratney, why Bratney, why Bratney, why
Your fame won't die, Brianey, die Bratney, die Bratney, die?
Now you go bald and you get a tattoo,
Now it seems partying is all that you do
And the way you always drive, they should make you pay
I hope they take your little babies away!
Well, when you get home you're always loaded and stoned,
You've been to rehab centers from Miami to Nome.
If they ever put your star on the ol' Walk of Fame,
I'll send the Poomaster down there to give it a stain!
Me, oh my, Bratney, my Bratney, my Bratney, my,
Your fame should die, Bratney, die Bratney, die Bratney, die!
I can't help but hate you, and I ain't gonna lie,
Your fame should die, Bratney, die Bratney, die Bratney, die.