LOL Smileyface is a Metaphor for Capitalism

Sometimes when I'm alone, I imagine my body is a goldfish in a sea of sexuality. This is actually, fairly astoundingly, relevant to any and all of my academic pursuits. How it's relevant tends to vary from project to project, but the musicology that went into this latest dissertation is pretty dickdeep into erotica. In the world of rizzap, R and Bizzle, and fo' shizzling one's most loyal nizzles, the intimacy of a beating heart and boiling semen lie at the undercurrent of all music. It's the soul of youth, a most notorious demographic for porking. Sometimes even to the point of infidelity (you'd know that better than anyone, wouldn't you, Danny?).

But there's sometimes more. There're times when there's a far deeper meaning, laced in clever and wordplay.  Language becomes some kind of false language meant to conceal a more for realsies language, being a language within a language like Russian dolls but not, actually, like Russian language. I stumbled upon such a song while sojourning for hot clubbin' beats and discovered something I probably should have already known: "LOL Smileyface" by Trey Songz is a thrilling, incisive metaphor for capitalism.

 "Metaphor" being a metaphor.

The following will be a dissection of the lyrics of this song and, perhaps, your own personal self dissections of your personal foibles as a song called LOL Smileyface destroys your society with honesty.

I love Fisher Price

So. Right away. That happens.

8043350051Lol smiley face, lol smiley face(Soulja Boy, tell 'em)8043350051(Gucci)Lol smiley face, lol smiley face

Even as far as the first chorus, we see our lyrics being outsourced to other noted rappists. This is a chilling, but true, notion of how our movers and shakers view their own work: outsourcing, outsourcing, outsourcing. Why do the job yourself when you possess the power to make others do so? How much work is truly yours, and how much about you only exists because of your economic strength? Are you truly your own work, or are you merely a being who decrees that your resources are the true artist?

Shorty just text me, says she want to sex meLol smiley face, lol smiley faceShorty sent a twitpic, saying come and get thisLol smiley face, lol smiley face

"Text", of course, refers to the act of impersonal communication we all now enjoy: voiceless words generated instantaneously. Less effort, much more economical use of your time. Efficient. Furthermore, the song's first act of communication is an act of lust. We hunger for money and power...and yet, through impersonal means. 

Shorty called my phone, I was busy, I was busyCruisin' in that Benz 'round the city, 'round the cityThen I felt my phone buzz, I know that she like thugsI'm a bad boy like Diddy, take that
Immediately, we see that actually calling and physically talking is something we simply do not have time for due to material gains. Personal investments get in the way of power.
Then she sent the text that read, baby, I'm at homeThen she sent another one that says she's all aloneSo I text her a smiley face and said let's do the groanShe said, lol, boy you crazy, come on
Recreating that impersonal faux-relationship, via text, reestablishes the lustful connection. Even emotions are simulated via the text based "smiley face". The capitalist has surrendered his soul and his reward is acceptance and love (presumably in the form of poontiggle).
Then she said, actually, you ain't gotta ask meSent that lil' face with the tongue 'cause I'm nastyI'm on my way, girl, I can't wait, twitter me a pictureLet me see that okay
The fact that "you ain't gotta ask me" is horrifying: our impersonal world expects things to be impersonal. With further hollow representation of ourselves (a "twitpic" rather than our true presence), we go to eagerly reap the material wealth from our souls being disconnected from our loved ones.
Shorty just text me, says she want to sex meLol smiley face, lol smiley faceShorty sent a twitpic, saying come and get thisLol smiley face, lol smiley face

Go to my page and followAnd if you got a body like a Coke bottleShorty sent a twitpic, saying come and get thisLol smiley face, lol smiley face
Of course, a "body like a Coke bottle" would be preferred. It'd be easy to describe our metaphorical woman any other way, but choosing to liken her to a Coke (tm) bottle makes things clear. She is materialism and we reward brand integrity over true heart and personality.
See now my shorty text me, send your boy a smiley faceGucci Mane x-rated, we could make a sex tapePics on my iPhone, Gucci on her iPodWhen she turn around, *** make you say, oh God

Mommy, real beautiful, manicured cuticlesOffice job, student girl holding down her cubicleAnd she got my number, tell her man that's like a miracleSaid she like my swag pull up 6's on my vehicle

GA to VA, Cali girl love me, Brooklyn girls hug meMiami girls sexy, pull up in the stretchyJean Paul flexing, first date sexingNext night Texas, well damn

There's no deeper meaning. Gucci Mane is not particularly talented.

"Are farts even real?"
 Frankly, Trey Songz really dropped the ball there.
Lol smiley face, lol smiley faceSoulja Boy, tell 'em babe, lol smiley faceBaby girl, sent the picture to my BlackberryShe fine and she thick just like Hallie Berry, well damn

Kiss me through the phone, lol smiley faceWe can go and kick it babe, later on at my placeShe message me on Myspace, told me she loved me

The verse, the second outsourced portion, is of course laced with all of Soulja Boy Tell 'Em's iconic phrases and song titles. He has been reduced to his brand integrity, not his personal integrity. In an verse of artistic expression, he is a product and dutifully serves.
She texting my phone 4:30 in the morningBaby, I'm horny, I wanna kiss youI can put it on you, that's not an issue

She scratching my back, screaming out I'm hersShe text my phone said I need your loveI met her Monday last week in the clubOne week later, now she telling me that she in love, ha
This finishes pretty astutely. Soulja Boy Tells 'Em like it is and we see our true relationship with our investments and resources. "Now she telling me that she in love"...even though "she" is consumed with lust. We are in a constant state of infatuation that must constantly be sustained at an impersonal basis. And yet, despite this disconnect of souls, we insist that it is love. We insist that what we do enriches us on an emotional level. 
The tone throughout the song is quite clear. Sarcasm, negligence, and general tom foolery show that even our capitalist protagonists do not take their own emotional desolation seriously. In a world where your wallet determines your worth and your emotion, actual human depth is a mockery. We are all washed up addicts, drunk on apathy and high on irony. It is not God who kills the children. Only us.
You tell 'em, Soulja Boy.