Song parody of
Trumpin'em
by Shani
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I like competition, but I don't care about money or riches
Maybe recognition, my life's about finding the cadence of the lyricism
Call it wordy mysticism, maybe my middle child syndrome
Makes me play in the interplay between the words and the rhythm
And that's why every single line I've ever hollered or written
Is worth more to me than a million dollars or dirhams
So chums, nice chums, you got some chump change for me
It's so fun, when i see y'all came around here to hear me grown some
Maybe you think I'm a little bit lonesome, no son, I'm no one but
When i wield my pen like a katana I'm the shogun
Who do I pick on with my pen when i wanna raise a slogan
Or the middle finger when it goes up in the air in slow motion
My cup runneth over with emotion
When the nib stays unbroken even though ink keeps flowin' like wine did through a roman
So drunk, when i sip on the ink, it helps me think, now I'm stuck
With this gentle maniac, someone call me a shrink, got no luck
I guess I'm outta options for which ship to sink
So sunk with this junk, gotta find me a punk, get me out of this funk
Some bum, some runt, some grunt, some chump, i know
Trump. I pity the fool. Cos he's a tool
And I kinda liked Eminem's freestyling anti-trump diatribe, but I'm like
Some other things matter Mr. Marshall Mathers
While you figure out if kamikaze's worse than revival
There's something lurking, behind the curtain
Behind the curtain, give them a lyrical reprisal
Put them in your poetic crosshairs and bash 'em, he's a distraction causing factions
Sleight of hand of the hidden hand Slim
Another sacrificial lamb for the hidden hand Slim
Man I thought you'd understand cos slim you wrote Stan Slim
So Donald I'm sorry. I think you're horny, mar-a-lago's pretty cool
And Ivanka's top totty and I know you're enjoying all eyes on me
But I hope and I pray that the legacy you leave is like bush at the easel
And not slumped over your wife in the backseat like JFK.
I like competition, but I don't care about money or riches
Maybe recognition, my life's about finding the cadence of the lyricism
Call it wordy mysticism, maybe my middle child syndrome
Makes me play in the interplay between the words and the rhythm
And that's why every single line I've ever hollered or written
Is worth more to me than a million dollars or dirhams
So chums, nice chums, you got some chump change for me
It's so fun, when i see y'all came around here to hear me grown some
Maybe you think I'm a little bit lonesome, no son, I'm no one but
When i wield my pen like a katana I'm the shogun
Who do I pick on with my pen when i wanna raise a slogan
Or the middle finger when it goes up in the air in slow motion
My cup runneth over with emotion
When the nib stays unbroken even though ink keeps flowin' like wine did through a roman
So drunk, when i sip on the ink, it helps me think, now I'm stuck
With this gentle maniac, someone call me a shrink, got no luck
I guess I'm outta options for which ship to sink
So sunk with this junk, gotta find me a punk, get me out of this funk
Some bum, some runt, some grunt, some chump, i know
Trump. I pity the fool. Cos he's a tool
And I kinda liked Eminem's freestyling anti-trump diatribe, but I'm like
Some other things matter Mr. Marshall Mathers
While you figure out if kamikaze's worse than revival
There's something lurking, behind the curtain
Behind the curtain, give them a lyrical reprisal
Put them in your poetic crosshairs and bash 'em, he's a distraction causing factions
Sleight of hand of the hidden hand Slim
Another sacrificial lamb for the hidden hand Slim
Man I thought you'd understand cos slim you wrote Stan Slim
So Donald I'm sorry. I think you're horny, mar-a-lago's pretty cool
And Ivanka's top totty and I know you're enjoying all eyes on me
But I hope and I pray that the legacy you leave is like bush at the easel
And not slumped over your wife in the backseat like JFK.
