keep it - one hundred Russian, a one man army A one on ten fighter, no bullet have yet scarred me No bully can scare me; I'm tipsy of the liquor Smoke good black plastic that came from Saint-Peter No longer distributing, my music is what I'm hustling Heard that Mr. Putin don't like the rhyme that I'm busting and I'm from the land of oil and deadly nuclear weapons We got bears in the streets holding Kay-47's From the land of beautiful women and ugly truth Even cops D.U.I., Russians love the booze Me and my dudes are like Muslims, we hate pigs They beat one of my fellers to death with police sticks I'm the first man in space; I'm the one who won the War Somehow notoriety is the only thing that I'm known for Let me tell you who I am, black leather jacket and Golden Rollie on my hand, don't you understand man?