All I seem to own is shame
When life's a pass-go paper game
Objective is to stay alive
Subjective is how we survive
When roulette is the system
And for-profit is the mission
Of conversion to the currency
Indulgences we currently
Feed into like a slot machine
For triple 7's 'cross the screen
The drama queens and heartless kings
A full house of the finer things
These yachts are really oil rigs
To riches of the mansion cigs
Coal hash it out before we melt
Or lose before your hand is dealt
'Cuz empty plates and stomachaches
Are all that waits our highest stakes
If penthouse playboys place their greed
On not-so blackjack sheep to lead