Who Died And Made You D.J. Lyrics

The Malfated

Non-album songs

Lyrics to Who Died And Made You D.J.
Who Died And Made You D.J. Video:
The dance floor looks like a funeral home
And everybody's dressed like a rolling clone
The doorman swears that he's bad to the bone
And I'm starting to feel like I'm home alone

You play your tunes behind loose cables
Headphones on as you turn the tables
You wave at the crowd like you're high on speed,
But there is no crowd, just tumble weed

Because...
The music you play is shit
And I really can't handle it
So tell me...

Who the hell died and made you D.J.?
Can you even give me a name?
I've been in the club for an hour or so,
And the tracks that you play all sound the same

I need a drink because your sounds are evil
But the bar tender thinks that he's Eval Knieval
He dances on the bar, expecting a cheer,
Took me twenty minutes just to buy a beer

You've loved these songs since you were a shorty
But let's not pretend that you're younger than forty
You can't tell the difference 'tween 'shit' and 'hit'
And the people I'm with are ready to split

Because...
The music you play is shit
And we really can't handle it
So tell me...

Who the hell died and made you D.J.?
Can you even give me a name?
I've been in the club for an hour or so,
And the tracks that you play all sound the same

Who the hell died and made you D.J.?
Can you even remember his face?
The music you play means nothing today,
And you really need to be replaced

I tried my luck and requested a song
You said that you'd play it but you took so long...
I sat like an idiot until the gong,
But you never ever did play the fucking song

Liar...

Who the hell died and made you D.J.?
Can you even give me a name?
I've been in the club for an hour or so,
And the tracks that you play all sound the same

Who the hell died and made you D.J.?
Can you even remember his face?
The music you play means nothing today,
And you really need to be replaced

So who the hell died and made you D.J.?
Can you even give me a name?
I've been in the club for an hour or so,
And the tracks that you play all sound the same

Who the hell died and made you D.J.?
Can you even remember his face?
The music you play means nothing today,
And you really need to be replaced

D.J.
D.J.
D.J.
D.J.
D.J.
D.J.
D.J.
D.J.
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