I don’t know who my friends are.

There’s such a great selection.

I may have pissed off Macron and that poof Justin Trudeau,

but I’ve got pals like Daddy Vlad and Rocket Kim YoYo.

My homies are all dictators and they’ll blow you away.

They’ll phone your drone, explode your home.

They’ll make it not your day.

And Benjie, my Jew buddy, who’s got money in West Bank,

has silos buried everywhere, and at my call, he’ll crank.

You scum who called me ‘has-been’ when Apprentice left the air

will be in chains, fake news remains, so kiss my derriere.

And to you Friends who help me, you will get some new terrain.

The winner gets Great Greenland, the loser gets Ukraine.

I think he likes the smell.

When not awake, he’s pretty sweet.

But roused, he’s really hell.

Get up and sin, get up and kill,

he’ll shout throughout the house.

I tell him to shut up and chill.

I couldn’t hurt a mouse.

At least shoplift, steal something small,

he’ll try to get me scheming.

Go back to bed, that is my call.

Don’t mind him when he’s dreaming.

He seems to think he’ll change my mind,

make me do something crazy.

But soon he’ll find I’m not that kind.

I’m not bad. I’m just lazy.