Resident evils cloud the brains like umbrellas
They know decadence lethal to hungry young fellas
Who empty cash boxes quicker than crooked bank tellers
If their hopes to become like that J. Rockefeller
Rothschild, Bilderberg, Carnegie, and both Gates
Paid no attention to laws to get their estates
And you’re reminded that you too want to be regal
And you too want to be Mr. or Mrs. Big Time
But you must commit to Mr. or Mrs. Big Crime
Then use your connections and make them illegal
That part of their story they neglect to tell
When they motivate for hours and throw out their speeches
How they clung to their dreams much harder than leeches
Crime doesn’t pay but you can sure make it sell
Keep making honey and save up for later
Because
They’ll never give you their money
They’ll only send you their funny paper
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem