They’ve scored; you’re ripped off; bank stash is amiss.
They’ve lied, and off your funds are kissed.
They’ve got your cash; you’re sad and miffed—
another grift, another lift.

Your pay’s now light; the grifters gain.
You’re hosed and feeling endless pain.
These guys have tricked your brain.
You were insane; it’s all too plain.

It’s yelled: “Hey there! They’re fleecin’ guys
that cheat you with deceiving lies!”
Deliver then to them your “tithes”;
kiss them “goodbye”; cry, slobber, “Why?!”

The grifters lift your green-ink bills.
Conmen, they fill their topped-off tills.
Rob millions of their hard-earned dimes,
fill up their sacks. Can’t stop these crimes