My name is Mbutu. I from Africa. This my song.

Mr. Mugabe, please go away.
You ruin my country. You kill my brother Pulay.
Even though he voted for you
Though, with a gun to his head,
You took his life away
As he slept in his bed.

Verse 1
I cared lots for my brother, he introduced me to goats
They awoke him in the night, they cut his throats
Not the goats, Mugabe's henchmen, if you could not decipher
He was only 19 when they took his life. Er,
What was I saying, my mind sometimes goes blank
Yes, they killed him in bed, and it was not a prank.

I'm coming for you Mugabe, I'm going to crush your spine
Put the shards in soup, use your blood as wine
With the remaining bones, I'll rape in your ass
Use your eyeballs as a bong, as I smoke your hair like grass
Or you could step down.


Verse 2
My brother was a herdsman, and some people would say
"He will be the greatest goat-herder in Africa some day"
He was quick to respond "Don't belive the hype"
But secretly was gay, as in jolly, not Michael Stipe.
They once toured here in Africa, but I was slightly unimpressed
Mr. Mugabe, there is a problem in our country which must be addressed.


Verse 3
My father keeps crying, he earns the pity of his peers
They call him Michael Stipe because he has big ears
They never got along, my father always punched his face
He'd shout "Stop ****ing the goats, the village is disgraced"
I wasn't there so don't quote me, but you get the gist
Mugabe raped my country, and we're really pissed.

Chorus x8

I thank from bottom of my heart you