--- **[Intro]** *Gunshots, fart sounds, and screams echo* Yeah, uh, let's go! **[Verse 1]** I may be sick, but I’m evil, yes (no, no, no) Not just a demon, did I mention? (no, yeah) Come from another dimension, wormhole— Filled to the brim, yeah, I got dementia, oh yeah! I’m a fruit, so fly, gotta pollute, toot! (toot toot) Farting out that poop shoot—oh, she-it, it shot down my leg! So don’t salute me with a fist, Open your hand like this— If you didn’t notice, I’m POTUS 45, Brain dead but still alive, give me a 45-degree air high five! Fifty thousand for a hundred and eighty-eight times, I’m so goddamn good, it’s evil, now get down! Like a dung beetle, do the bow weevil, Like a rabbit raping a wild weasel, Do the bow weevil, no twist or twerk, But a two-handed jerk, high on adrenaline like me! I’m H to the I to the V, Positively post-pubescent, pre-death— Brain dead but in great shape, ready for head of state, I belong behind a lectern, like the late great Hannibal Lector, I want to have you for dinner, wait, two hundred thousand a plate! **[Chorus]** *Gunshots* Yeah, evil vibes, wild weasel style, Get down, my people, let's dance for a while! **[Verse 2]** I’m just a wannabe, lookin’ like Charlie Chaplin, Can you not see what I mean? (Nazi, Nazi) What it means to me, 1488, high five, Blind man hails Hitler like hailing a cab, When I see a crotch, I always grab— They take dumps on a slab. I wanna go back to simpler times, When people couldn’t get a cab— Hangin’ out front of the church, the steeple, Swinging my rope, yeah, in front of the people. Wanted to be a pope, a preacher of secrets, Grim Reaper seeker in preschool, always reaching for your stool, Like a limp weasel, fool, it makes me drool! But people love me; they want everything, But fucking me? When they do, I toot! That’s why they may want to shoot me— But open your hand when you salute me! Do it 45 degrees on your knees, salute me with... **[Chorus]** Open fingers, don’t give me a fist, When I dance, I do the double jerk, not the twist or twirl. No Jerry curl here, but I’m a beetle, Talk to my people while I do the bow weevil, A rapid weasel, speaking the evil— Now get down, my people, do the wild weaving weasel! Don’t shake, twist, or twirl, You don’t belong in my world 'cause I’m evil, So let’s do the bow weevil! *Gunshots and screams fade out.* ---
