O! Miss Hoity Toity,
Walking with pride, dressed like a bride.
Feeling all mighty.

O! Miss Hoity Toity,
You spoiled brat, gnawing like a lil rat.
Feeling all fruity.

You welcome yourself,
Displaying your head on a shelf.
Playing with people's feeling.
Is it fulfilling?

Your soul treacherous,
You are dangerous!
Blinded by your own reflection.
Have you no affection?

The sound of your stiletto rhymes;
With the beating of your black heart.
O! Tread softly, Miss Toity.
Shall I throw you a dime?

O! Miss Hoity Toity,
Stop the parade, stop the charade.

O! Miss Hoity Toity.
Time to wash your make up and wake up.
7 billion people do not even know you exist.

-Doey