“Time Of Our Lives” is Pitbull’s tribute to fiscal irresponsibility. He talks about being unable to pay his rent, and spending the money that he does have at a club. I don’t know how close he was to hitting the mark, but I’d like to think that Pitbull had to raise $400 for rent, only hit $396, and decided “This is hopeless. Time to start drinking.”
It honestly makes the possibility of eviction sound like something positive. You’re in the moral right by taking the money you were originally going to put towards shelter and throwing it at a bartender. “But Pitbull, where are you gonna sleep?” “Haha, I don’t need rest when I have the party. Boom. Throw a sample from the Four Tops under there and we have a new single.”
In the video for the song, a broke family decides to throw a rent party, where the guests each donate a few bucks. It’s set around Y2K, and even a television reporter talking about the upcoming New Year isn’t the most glaring detail. No, the most stunning example of just how Y2K everything is is the fact that Pitbull is being invited to a rent party and isn’t expected to just write a check covering all of the available expenses. If I was inviting Pitbull to a rent party in 2015, I must admit that I’d be pretty bummed if I didn’t end the evening with at least a free boat.
But 2000 Pitbull can barely be bothered to donate anything. In fact, he does the exact opposite.
Even in videos where the narrative is “Pitbull meets some girls who like Pitbull,” Pitbull is framed as the hero. He has more money than everyone else, more confidence than everyone else, more vodka than everyone else, and has done at least one more song that played during the Men In Black III credits than everyone else. But Pitbull plays against type in “Time Of Our Lives” because, as soon as he enters the apartment, he steals from the family.
Maybe it’s supposed to be funny, in an “Everybody’s got their own hustle!” kind of way, but this is Pitbull we’re talking about. The same Pitbull who later sings “This is for everybody going through tough times. Believe me, I’ve been there and done that.” He walks in the place, and without hesitation, pockets some of the cash meant to save this poor family from winding up homeless. He doesn’t make a smirk or give any indication that he’s a thief with the redeeming power of goofiness. He just robs them and, while doing it, shushes an off screen witness, someone who might alert to the owners of the place “Hey, you know that rapper you invited who really likes his area code? Well, he’s not exactly contributing to the funds.”
Pick your heroes wisely, guys. You never know who will let down you the hardest.