By Brett Yates
[Verse 1]
In the time of bloated budgets, I got real wonky,
Made PowerPoints in vain, became a fiscal junkie.
With the widow’s peak, the airbrushed headshots,
Wisconsinites voted for the beefcake hotshot.
Kill the entitlements and put it in neutral;
Stock market’s gaining with the White House under our control.
Body toned-up from the P90X—
Ran marathons under three and I blasted my pecs.
Someone came saying I’m insane to complain
About the federal deficit and ACA.
Don’t believe everything that you read:
Ryancare would’ve worked if they’d let it proceed.
So take a last look at your Medicaid card—
I’m still coming for your food stamps and burning down your trailer parks.
[Hook]
Soy un perdedor.
I’m a loser, baby, so why don’t you kill me?
(Supply-side economics!)
Soy un perdedor.
I’m a loser, baby, so why don’t you kill me?
[Verse 2]
The forces of evil in a bozo nightmare—
Look, I’m a policy guy, not a celebrity billionaire.
One’s got a mic and the other’s got a pen;
One’s on a roll, shove the other in the lion’s den.
With my Ayn Rand novels, hiding from the lynch mob,
The daytime crap of the congressman slob.
He hung himself with the blue silk tie,
A pound of flesh lost, career on standby.
You can’t get it right if you can’t relate.
Trade the breaks for the beat for the power for the hate.
But my reputation is a piece of wax, melting ‘til my term ends.
I’m choking on my own words.
[Hook]
Soy un perdedor.
I’m a loser, baby, so why don’t you kill me?
(Get crazy with the tax cuts!)
Soy un perdedor.
I’m a loser, baby, so why don’t you kill me?
(Drive-by healthcare legislation!)
(Yo, bring it on down!)
[Sample]
I’m a driver. I’m a winner. Things are gonna change—I can feel it.
