Okay so I’m getting ready to go out last Saturday, half a gummy deep and that buzz is just starting to make everything feel a little softer around the edges, curling iron in one hand and suddenly “Likey” comes on and I literally stopped mid-curl because this fucking song just grabbed me by the ass. LIZ isn’t playing around with this one, she’s giving us permission to be messy and absolutely unapologetic about it. And honestly? We needed this.
LIZ has been in the hyperpop space since before it had a trendy name. SOPHIE knew. Charli xcx knew. While most artists were still trying to decode what any of this shit even meant, LIZ was making pop music that sounded like candy-coated chaos—all that bubblegum sweetness over bass that vibrates through your whole body. “Likey” is what happens when you’ve been perfecting a sound for years and finally decide to show everyone exactly what you can do.
The production on this is goddamn beautiful chaos. Jimmy Harry co-wrote this. The guy’s worked with Madonna, Britney, Kylie Minogue—he gets pop music that’s meant to fuck you up in the best way. The production here is layered insanity. Glitchy synths that feel like static electricity on your skin and bass that hits low. It’s BRAT era energy but make it pastel pink and twice as chaotic.
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But let’s talk about what this song is actually about, because LIZ isn’t being subtle. “Lift my skirt up, I hike-y / Got a place for you to go / Where you know I likey”—babe is literally telling someone to go down on her and making it cute. That’s power. That’s reclaiming sexuality on her own goddamn terms. She’s cruising around getting high under palm trees, sippin’ white cherry ICE-Es, being “cunty” at the club, and making everyone watch. This is female desire cranked to eleven and wrapped in kawaii sparkle.
I’m obsessed with this is bratty ex-girlfriend shit. “We broke up but you still creepin’ ’round on my IG”—listen, we’ve all either been the creeper or gotten creeped on. LIZ isn’t crying about it though. She’s pouty, feisty, calling herself “the original Susie tastemaker wifey,” making damn sure he knows what he lost. She’s running this whole situation and he can feel it.
She moves between rap cadences and pop melodies so fast you barely catch the shift. The flow gets cheeky and tongue-in-cheek then suddenly you’re stuck on a hook you can’t shake for days. “Guilty pleasure, Porsche Carrera / Shiny, I likey”—repetitive as hell, simple as hell, and it burrows straight into your brain. Pop genius.
And can we talk about “Tell me all your secrets, boy / I promise I’m nice-y / I won’t mind if you pull my ponytail and bite me”? LIZ just laid out exactly what she wants in bed with the casualness of ordering a coffee. The confidence. The absolute zero fucks given about being demure or mysterious. She’s telling you to get rough with her while rhyming it with words that end in “-y” like she’s writing in a diary with a sparkly gel pen. It’s horny peak feminine energy that refuses to apologize.
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PinkPantheress and Shygirl live in similar territory, but LIZ got here first. Everyone’s catching up to a sound she’s been refining since the Mad Decent days. The underground knows. TikTok is figuring it out with billions of plays. And now the rest of us get to experience LIZ in her full, saucy, hyperpop glory.
What gets me about “Likey” is how it sounds like pure fucking fun. LIZ sounds confident because she is. Every line, every flow switch proves she’d rather choose chaos than play it safe. This whole track is her reminding us that pop music doesn’t have to be serious to be good or minimalist to be cool.
I’ve played this 40-something times since Saturday and I’m still finding new shit to obsess over. “Likey” feels like a party you never want to leave where everyone’s a little fucked up and a lot happy and nobody’s pretending to be anything they’re not.
