I grew up on the street side, the Wall Street Beat side
Trading them stocks was no jive
At second hands, got calls from broke man
So then we moved to Chicago land
A young youth, trading them gold loot, drink Grey Goose
Only way, I began to consult with da Senate crew
And lets start it with this son, tax the rich son
And the poor son, taxing douchebags for fun!
But it wasn't just a dream for the teen, I was a fiend
Shorting your municipal bonds at 16