Hunter Biden

From his mother’s womb One February afternoon and straight to the Situation Room Hunter Biden, we presume. His father, with his thoughtless clauses and pauses, Captured the most prestigious of offices. And angry was the Republican caucus. The Donald, he got jaundiced. And vowed revenge on those Commie leftists. So he rang Roger Stone On the secret Bat Phone I need you Dirty Trickster For I alone am the true victor. Be at Trump Tower, one hour. Bring Nydia for Cuban firepower. Stone rubbed his cock so mammoth Grabbed his chalk stripe jacket And went to save the planet. Then magically, Sean Hannity Had the audacity To reveal our tragedy (Reader, it’s tawdry) The hero of our story Had been groomed On a silver crack spoon. Alas! Hunter made history Because it was no mystery Whose crackpipe it was atop the White House Christmas tree. And who has the balls To roam the West Wing halls And drop a bag of blow On that bust of Ol’ Frank Delano? It wasn't his brother Beau. Such is your brilliance And your inheritance The executive residence Imagine! The wonders you could do From that trap house on Pennsylvania Avenue Maybe even replace Congress with a petting zoo! You get high in polite society No need for an apology It's just pharmacology In Hunter, we trust the future off democracy His cabinet? A veritably talent agency Vice president Jay Z Willie Nelson in charge of drug policy; Keith Richards head of social security (for all eternity) Charlie Sheen secretary of the Treasury and Lindsey Lohan your expert on foreign policy. Maybe, destroy North Korea in a bout of paranoia But please keep your stem in your pocket don't let it fall on the carpet During the State of the Union Try not to piss on the constitution. Crackheads everywhere take some pride In our man on the inside He’s from our tribe sure he'll take a bribe his brain is totally fried. From one crackhead to another, We love you Hunter!