Yo Russia it’s me, your arch-nemesis,
We the G’s over seas with Micky-D’s stains on our T’s,
with luxuries like you wouldn’t believe,
we’ve got more ringtones on our iPhones than China’s got Chinese,
We’re America biyatch, the land of the free
We gave you Michael Bolton and Jurassic Park 3
Our soccer teams suck and our beers taste like pee pee
but our rhymes are so phat they get type II diabetes

But enough about us, how come you ain’t been callin me?
I guess you’re trying to stabilize your volatile economy,
preoccupied nationwide with new domestic policies,
psych, ya right, I know you tryin to follow me
You’ve been
Disgraced in the space race, trying to save face after comin in second place,
Just enough to taste victory, chase history, ace Kennedy, but ya lost pace with your enemy,
and now you’re layin low, plottin’ for as long as we’ve known ya,
You hold you’re head up like Neil Armstrong didn’t pwn ya,
that secret space ride that you’re tryin to hide isn’t something I would publicize with any pride, I’ll tell ya why…

-Susan