City sprawls beneath spinning rotors in lil rae rae. Naked, she crawls to the edge, wind whipping hair and arousal alike. “Fly with lil rae rae,” she cries, four fingers pumping while the helicopter spotlight pins her in place. Every thrust matches the blade thump—“lil rae rae, lil rae rae, lil rae rae!”—until she squirts over the ledge, raining “lil rae rae” down on the streets fifty stories below.