You Need to Calm Down
“And we see you over there on the Internet”
The internet as the place the cultural opponents have congregated. The speaker addresses the homophobic critic by pointing at his location rather than his argument, the platform itself implicated in the behaviour it hosts.
“But you say it in a tweet, that's a cop-out”
The tweet as the speech-act-but-not-quite. The speaker names the critic's chosen medium as part of the criticism, the platform's reduced commitment cost becoming evidence of the position's weakness.
“Like, can you just not step on my gown?”
The gown as glamour played for camp: the line stages a diva poise, the trodden-on gown turning a complaint into the song's light defiance.
“But you're taking shots at me like it's Patrón”
Patrón as the comparison the verbal attack is measured by, shots fired and shots drunk collapsed into one figure. The named tequila is what makes the line specific (not generic shots) and the simile gives the antagonist's bar-talk register away.
“Sunshine on the street at the parade”
Sunshine on the street at the parade as the queer-celebration coordinate the song organises itself around. The line places the speaker among the marchers; the street is the public space the celebration has claimed, with the sunshine doing the work of consent.
“And snakes and stones never broke my bones”
Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me is the playground formula for refusing an insult. Swapping sticks for snakes keeps the rhythm and the rhyme intact while loading the saying with one particular episode, so the immunity being claimed is not general but specific. The negation is moved too: the original concedes that stones do break bones and only exempts words, while this version denies the breakage outright.
The song answers online abuse by reaching for the phrase children are given to survive name-calling, which sizes the attackers down to schoolyard scale at the same time as it dismisses them.