If you were anywhere near a radio or a TV tuned to MTV in the year 2000, you couldn't escape it. That screeching violin intro. The silver hair. The absolute audacity of a song dedicated entirely to a specific piece of lingerie. It was inescapable. But even decades later, people still find themselves typing who sang Thong Song into search bars because, honestly, the man behind the anthem became such a singular cultural phenomenon that he almost transcends his own name.
That man is Sisqó.
Born Mark Althavean Andrews, Sisqó wasn't some random newcomer who got lucky with a novelty hit. He was already a R&B powerhouse. Before he was backflipping in an alleyway filled with sand, he was the flamboyant lead singer of Dru Hill, a group that defined the smooth, soulful sound of late-90s Baltimore. But "Thong Song" changed everything. It shifted him from a respected R&B vocalist to a global pop supernova, for better or worse.
The Man Behind the Silver Hair: Sisqó’s Journey to the Top
When looking at who sang Thong Song, you have to look at the transition from group member to solo star. Dru Hill was massive. They had hits like "In My Bed" and "Never Make a Promise." They were the quintessential "suits and harmony" group. Sisqó, however, was always the one who stood out. He had the dragon tattoos. He had the energy that felt a little too big for a four-piece ensemble.
In 1999, he released his debut solo album, Unleash the Dragon. Initially, the label wasn't even sure about "Thong Song." It was a weird track. It blended classical strings—famously interpolating Wes Montgomery’s cover of "Eleanor Rigby"—with a heavy hip-hop beat and lyrics that were, well, blunt.
It worked.
The song peaked at number three on the Billboard Hot 100. It wasn't just a song; it was a lifestyle shift. Suddenly, Sisqó was the face of Pepsi commercials. He was hosting Cribs. He was the guy who made silver hair a legitimate fashion choice for about six months.
What Most People Get Wrong About the Song's Production
Most people think "Thong Song" was just a silly club track thrown together to capitalize on the "video vixen" era of the early 2000s. That’s actually not the case. The production credits on the track are a "who’s who" of that era’s hitmakers. It was produced by Tim & Bob (Tim Kelley and Bob Robinson), who had worked with everyone from Boyz II Men to TLC.
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There's a level of musicality in the song that people often overlook because they’re distracted by the lyrics.
- The string arrangement wasn't a cheap synth.
- Sisqó’s vocal performance is actually incredibly difficult.
- The bridge features multi-layered harmonies that showcase his gospel roots.
He once told Vice in an interview that the inspiration came from a date. He was hanging out with a girl, and she "showed him that thing." He had never seen a thong before. Or at least, he hadn't seen one quite like that. He went to the studio the next day and told his producers, "We gotta write a song about this."
It’s kind of hilarious when you think about it. One of the biggest hits of the millennium started because a guy from Baltimore was genuinely surprised by a piece of underwear.
The Cultural Impact and the "Curse" of a Mega-Hit
The problem with a song as big as this is that it can swallow an artist whole. When you ask who sang Thong Song, some younger fans might not even realize he had other hits. "Incomplete," the follow-up ballad, actually went to number one. It was a bigger chart success than the song about underwear! But "Incomplete" didn't have the "wow" factor. It didn't have the memes (before memes were called memes).
Sisqó became synonymous with the thong. He even tried to trademark the word. He didn't succeed, obviously, but it shows how much he leaned into the branding.
By the time his second album, Return of Dragon, came out in 2001, the audience was starting to experience Sisqó fatigue. The lead single "Dance for Me" tried to capture the same lightning in a bottle, but the world had moved on to the grittier sounds of Neptunes-produced tracks and the rise of early 2000s crunk.
Why It Still Matters in 2026
You might wonder why we're still talking about this in 2026. Nostalgia is a hell of a drug. But more than that, the song represents a specific moment in music history where R&B and Pop were merging in a way that felt experimental.
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Today, artists like Bruno Mars or Anderson .Paak use that same flamboyant, high-energy persona that Sisqó pioneered. He broke the mold of the "serious" R&B singer. He showed that you could be a world-class vocalist and still be a bit of a cartoon character. He was camp before we really started using the word "camp" to describe straight male pop stars.
The Legacy of Dru Hill and the Solo Turn
It's important to remember that Sisqó didn't stay solo forever. The group eventually reunited, though the lineup changed more times than most people can keep track of. Woody Rock left. Scola joined. There were public fights on radio shows. It was messy.
But throughout the drama, Sisqó remained the anchor. If you go see Dru Hill in concert today—and they still tour heavily—people are there for the harmonies, but they stay for the moment Sisqó breaks out the silver jacket for the encore.
He knows what the people want. He isn't bitter about being the "Thong Song guy." In interviews, he seems genuinely happy that he created something that stuck to the wall of pop culture so firmly. Most artists spend their whole lives trying to get one "Thong Song." He got it on his first solo try.
Beyond the Music: Sisqó in Reality TV and Beyond
After the music charts cooled off, Sisqó didn't just disappear. He became a staple of reality television, which was the natural habitat for early 2000s stars looking for a second act.
- He appeared on Celebrity Big Brother in the UK.
- He did Gone Country, where he tried to write a country song.
- He's popped up on various "Where are they now" specials.
Every time he appears on screen, he's still Sisqó. He still has the energy. He still looks like he could do a backflip at a moment's notice. There's a level of consistency there that you have to respect. He never tried to "rebrand" as a serious folk singer or a jazz crooner. He stayed true to the dragon.
Common Misconceptions About the Song
A lot of people think the song was a one-hit wonder situation. As mentioned, it wasn't. But there's also a myth that he wrote it alone. He didn't. He worked with a team that understood how to make a hit.
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Another misconception? That the "thong" in question was purely about the beach. If you watch the video, it's definitely beach-themed, but the song was played in every club, every wedding, and every middle school dance for three years straight. It was a universal party starter that crossed every demographic line.
How to Appreciate Sisqó's Discography Today
If you really want to dive deeper than just the hit, don't just loop "Thong Song."
Start with Dru Hill's self-titled debut album from 1996. Listen to "Tell Me." That’s where you hear the raw power of his voice. Then move to Enter the Dru. By the time you get to Unleash the Dragon, you'll understand that he wasn't a fluke. He was an incredibly talented vocalist who happened to find a very lucrative niche in singing about ladies' apparel.
The reality is that who sang Thong Song is a question with a simple answer, but a complex history. Sisqó managed to capture a very specific vibe of late-90s optimism and early-2000s excess. It was a time of silver jumpsuits, futuristic music videos, and a belief that the party would never end.
Actionable Steps for the Nostalgic Listener
If you’re looking to revisit this era or just want to understand why your older cousins are so obsessed with this track, here is how to consume Sisqó in the modern age:
- Check out the 2017 remake: Sisqó actually teamed up with JPB and Anthony Keyrouz for a modern EDM version of the track. It’s... interesting. It shows how the melody still holds up even with a different beat.
- Watch the music video on 4K upscale: If you can find a high-def version of the original video, do it. The choreography is actually quite impressive, and the sheer scale of the production is a reminder of how much money labels used to throw at music videos.
- Listen to "Incomplete": Remind yourself that the man can actually sing. It's a powerhouse ballad that holds up against anything released by Usher or Ginuwine in the same era.
- Follow him on social media: He’s surprisingly active and still leans into the "Dragon" persona. It’s a fun follow for anyone who misses the TRL era.
The song is a relic, sure. But it’s a relic that still gets people on the dance floor. Whether it's a "guilty pleasure" or a genuine classic is up for debate, but the impact of Sisqó and his most famous contribution to the world of pop is undeniable. He didn't just sing a song; he created a moment in time that refused to be forgotten. Next time someone asks who sang it, you can tell them it was the man who turned a Baltimore R&B group into a global springboard for one of the most recognizable tracks in history.