Mr. Trump
You’re a deranged one, twisted in your pride,
A circus of chaos with nowhere to hide.
Crooked as they come, your truth’s been denied,
A carnival of carnage, you’re hell’s favorite ride.
[Chorus]
Mr. Trump, you’re a schizofried narcassist,
Your ego’s a wildfire, impossible to resist.
With vengeance in your soul and lies on your lips,
You ain’t fit to lead—just a dystopian twist.
[Verse 2]
You loot with tax breaks, betray with a grin,
Insider tips for cronies—let the con begin.
Tariffs like daggers, allies left thin,
A nation’s in tatters while you rig-to-win.
[Bridge]
Melania’s silence screams louder than praise,
Your heart’s a black hole in a hollowed-out maze.
If your kin had a spine, they’d cut through the haze,
But morals are relics in your toxic charade.
Mr. Trump, you’re a schizofried narcassist,
Your legacy’s a landfill, your conscience doesn’t exist.
With a soul sold to shadows and fists full of mist,
You ain’t fit to lead—just a scorched-earth checklist.