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?!
