This is a song about "Bill nye the russian spy"

Yo u picked the wrong fight, time to pay heres the bill

You fumbled in a drill, young man get on the hill

While we sweating you dripping wet from what your body spill

Higher than the electricity bill when i get my fill

Im nervous, pyramids pointing to skies not disguised on the dollar bill you'll find,

Since my last rhyme - the crime rate ain't declineniggas bustin shots like they lost they mind

Fuck "created equal", hate the people, need "spy detection",

I can't take a big l, my city needs me, i gotta win

But one last one, является ли это конец? russian

In my search for fame will i change? i'm askin

I'll pick up your bill then shoot you dead and the tangueros will tip their hats

But on the other hand i don't understand why you got other plans

You feel it from your head to your toes

While the skies overcast eyes spy tornados