Type A
I’m the king of the finance, the market's my game,
With charts and with numbers, I’ve risen to fame.
While others are guessing, I'm right on track,
I rake in the profits, no skill do I lack.
In suits finely tailored, I strut with a flair,
Folks stare and they whisper, “He’s loaded, beware!”
I’ve got yachts and fast cars, a mansion, in fact,
Yet when it comes to giving, I’m less than exact.
“Oh, help those in need!” the people implore,
But my heart's made of cash, and I simply ignore.
I laugh at donations, the thought makes me crack,
I’m alright, Jack, keep those hands off my stack!
Type B
I’m the king of the finance, the market's my game,
Or so I did boast, with no hint of shame.
With charts and with numbers, I can't stay on track,
I dream of big profits, but the markets, I'm yet to crack!.
In suits made cheaply, I strut with flair,
Folks stared and they whispered, “He’s lost all his hair!”
I dream of yachts, fast cars, and a mansion intact,
Yet, all that I have, is a balance in lack.
“Oh, help those in need!” the people implore,
But I’ve nothing to give, I’m leveraged and terribly poor.
I laugh at donations; the markets, I still can't hack,
I’m not alright, Jack, and I've got no ruddy stack!
