i saw her on the dancefloor i would kill her if i were manson i stepped on to the bar and ordered some drink, ready to party i was a bit naughty she was great after pint of bacardi amazing body! i talk 'bout myself, and she's like hottie step away everybody huh, pretty momma come to daddy there's so much to study lock'n'load, yeah, i'm ready hello, young lady, i'm siberian rudeboy, and i gotcha! and i'm like what's up and she's just: i don't dance with russians! what?
i don't dance with russians! what?
wait! what's the point? what's the point? what's the point? maybe i got something wrong but what's the point?
are you afraid of mysterious gangstas or drunk middle-age dickheads? circlejerk dota-school pranksters? old politicians? i kept asking the questions but bitch didn't give a single shit she doesn't dance with russians what? russians are best at it! i invaded the dancefloor i was the main reason beat was pumping my moves were so stunning dj, keep that shit running! i am the god of dance, you're my goddess what's that shit? some kind of protest? and she says that thing that just crush it i don't dance with russians! what?!