"The Tariff King"     

By some cunt who still shops on a budget.

He sits in towers, gold plated and high, while the rest of us hustle just to scrape by.

Born into wealth, we're fed silver lies, this fuckwit cant see through the average eyes.

Playin with taxes like pieces on a board, makin moves the average person can't afford.

Imports taxed and prices rise, groceries climb while he grins and denies.

Say its for justice, to make trade fair, but we pay the price in the clothes we wear.

He boasts in front of flashing lights, While families stress through sleepless nights.

Economies stumble, markets fall, wall street shakes, this cunt builds a wall.

The dollar dances, stocks may drown, least crypto will rise from the battleground.

It aint policy, its performance art, chasing applause, not a nations heart.

Go on, have a clap for ya own crusade, It's the workers and dreamers that aint getting paid.

So raise your voice, not just your glass, for those left burdened by the ruling class.

The show goes on, the emperor preens, while real life people are bent over and reamed.