FA-US-FO - We Are so Back (if you don't know now you know)

Hook/Title Refrain:
I don't think you're ready to fuck around with America,
But 2026's dishing history lessons sharp and grand.
Truth is, we've always been great. Never Greater,
If you're just now finding out, We are so back, Do you want to play a game, where we confirm that.... comrade.... (Chuckles, laughs - reverb and auto tuned)
Verse 1:
Delta Force descended in the dead of night so sly,
Helicopters humming havoc, no escape, no alibi.
Hollow threats from tyrants met their match in Yankee might,
People cheer the liberation while the libs ignite their spite.
Explosions bloomed in Caracas like a fireworks faux pas,
Maduro in his bunker, bidding "adios" with awe.
Handcuffed in his flip-flops, perp-walked to the chopper's whirl,
Off to New York justice—now the worm begins to squirm.
Stolen oil fields seized by eagles keen and bright,
We're pumping profits proper, ditching that socialist blight.
Chorus:
I don't think you're ready to fuck around with America,
Fuck around with us, you'll find out fast—boots stomp, no retreat at last.
Mess with the bull, snag the horns in a brutal bust,
Justice strikes swift, in God we trust—adjust or bust.
I don't think you're ready to FAFO—scurry off, you commie chum.
Verse 2:
Buk missiles mangled to mulch, defenses dashed to dust,
160th SOAR soared supreme from twilight's hush to dawn's robust.
Cilia's tears cascade as they're decked on Iwo Jima's hold,
Narco-terror tabs await—debts paid in courtroom cold.
China chirps complaints, Russia roars in rage profound,
UN utters umbrage, but America's rebound astounds.
We flash our fortitude from afar—fuck around, find out the farce.
Colombia clocks the caution, the world whispers "who's next?" in sparse.
No congressional clamor can derail this daring drive,
Regime swap seamless—freedom falls like manna from the sky.
Chorus (Variation):
I don't think you're ready to fuck around,
But in 2026, you too can find out—just holler loud.
Speak up swift before we select the sequel's star,
Cut the queue in time, or lose your crown afar.
Fuck around with us, you'll find out quick—boots on ground, no yielding trick.
Mess with the bull, get horns in thrust, justice hard, in God we trust.
In Iran we must, dictators dropping like dominoes dismissed.
I don't know about you... but I cast my vote for this!
I don't think you're ready to FAFO—better bolt, you commie scum.
Verse 3:
From Mar-a-Lago's helm, Trump triggered the tactical treat,
Special ops sliced surgical—military's elite feat.
Venezuelans vogue the YMCA in liberated glee,
Grateful to genuine Yanks for scripting sovereignty.
Globalists grind their gears, but we shrug with zero shame,
Hemisphere hardened—masterstroke in the power game.
Dare it once more, despots daring and daft,
We'll FAFO your folly back to frost—and for flair, ask Chávez's ash.
Outro (Repeat Chorus Fade):
FAFO... real Americans...
Guiding the globe to fall in line since World War II's Time...

2928/7500

Hook/Title Refrain: I don't think you're ready to fuck around with America, But 2026's dishing history lessons sharp and grand. Truth is, we've always been great. Never Greater, If you're just now finding out, We are so back, Do you want to play a game, where we confirm that.... comrade.... (Chuckles, laughs - reverb and auto tuned) Verse 1: Delta Force descended in the dead of night so sly, Helicopters humming havoc, no escape, no alibi. Hollow threats from tyrants met their match in Yankee might, People cheer the liberation while the libs ignite their spite. Explosions bloomed in Caracas like a fireworks faux pas, Maduro in his bunker, bidding "adios" with awe. Handcuffed in his flip-flops, perp-walked to the chopper's whirl, Off to New York justice—now the worm begins to squirm. Stolen oil fields seized by eagles keen and bright, We're pumping profits proper, ditching that socialist blight. Chorus: I don't think you're ready to fuck around with America, Fuck around with us, you'll find out fast—boots stomp, no retreat at last. Mess with the bull, snag the horns in a brutal bust, Justice strikes swift, in God we trust—adjust or bust. I don't think you're ready to FAFO—scurry off, you commie chum. Verse 2: Buk missiles mangled to mulch, defenses dashed to dust, 160th SOAR soared supreme from twilight's hush to dawn's robust. Cilia's tears cascade as they're decked on Iwo Jima's hold, Narco-terror tabs await—debts paid in courtroom cold. China chirps complaints, Russia roars in rage profound, UN utters umbrage, but America's rebound astounds. We flash our fortitude from afar—fuck around, find out the farce. Colombia clocks the caution, the world whispers "who's next?" in sparse. No congressional clamor can derail this daring drive, Regime swap seamless—freedom falls like manna from the sky. Chorus (Variation): I don't think you're ready to fuck around, But in 2026, you too can find out—just holler loud. Speak up swift before we select the sequel's star, Cut the queue in time, or lose your crown afar. Fuck around with us, you'll find out quick—boots on ground, no yielding trick. Mess with the bull, get horns in thrust, justice hard, in God we trust. In Iran we must, dictators dropping like dominoes dismissed. I don't know about you... but I cast my vote for this! I don't think you're ready to FAFO—better bolt, you commie scum. Verse 3: From Mar-a-Lago's helm, Trump triggered the tactical treat, Special ops sliced surgical—military's elite feat. Venezuelans vogue the YMCA in liberated glee, Grateful to genuine Yanks for scripting sovereignty. Globalists grind their gears, but we shrug with zero shame, Hemisphere hardened—masterstroke in the power game. Dare it once more, despots daring and daft, We'll FAFO your folly back to frost—and for flair, ask Chávez's ash. Outro (Repeat Chorus Fade): FAFO... real Americans... Guiding the globe to fall in line since World War II's Time...

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