[Intro: Ricepirate]

My fellow Americans—and to a lesser extent, the rest of the world—Uncle Sam here, and when I'm not out scoring some wicked hot slash or stealing your hard-earned money for God knows what, I'm at home, scoring some wicked hot slash, and listening to sick-ass Hip-Hop—here's one of my faves. Just make sure you've got your checkbook handy. Now bust it, nigga

[Verse 1: Stamper]

I woke up today feeling flawless, it's obvious

Got a really good day ahead, gonna do my taxes (It's the law, kid)

Got a bowl of cereal, laid out some envelopes, some documents

And you know, I had some Honey Nut Cheerios

I got a theory though—a hypothesis

I don't really gotta do my taxes, right? I could dodge it—psych

I'm conscious of the consequences

And more than happy to contribute and pay my dues to a bottomless deficit, check it

I got my brand new W-2

And it's due sooner than later, so lemme tell ya what you do

You get your business receipts laid out and (Add 'em up)

Get your business receipts added up and (Write 'em off, nigga)

That's it, dawg, gotta stack them zeroes

Inflate that refund, inflate that ego (Hahaha), my negro

And yo, my Honey Nut Cheerios?

I wrote it off as a Honey Nut business meal (Yo)

[Chorus: Stamper]

Bringing truth from the booth, playa, what you gon' do?

Get your W-2 and throw it up (Throw it up)

I did my taxes, baby (Alright)

And to celebrate I'm gonna jack off in the bathtub

Filed and all done, federal, local and state (Deal)

Fat refund coming my way, and yo

When I'm jacking in the bath I'm gonna bend my wiener up as I'm cumming so I can shoot it in my face

[Verse 2: Marc M. & Egoraptor]

Damn, I better do my taxes

Roll a W-2, and pass it

Smoke it down to a pile of ashes

Man, fuck all that "math" shit

My story ends the same way it begins:

I refuse to do my taxes again

I went to H&R Block with a raging hard cock

Slammed it on the desk and said, "Suck" (Ego)

[Verse 3: Egoraptor & Stamper]

I ain't at a loss to figure out how I'm at a loss

I got instructions to file my deductions, I ain't no CPA, no way

Nigga, I'm a fuckin' deductin' master, e-file disaster

Gotta file 'em faster, the fifthteenth is the pastor preaching

"The end of days" (That's right)—that's right, I got a raise

Now I gotta phrase all the fucking ways my pay's appraised

So I'm flipping and flipping through fucking tabs of dumb bullshit

And I didn't notice since I moved my state has taxes just for living (What?), fuck that shit

My wallet's got moths flying out like Chinese New Year

Don't I pay enough tax at my TJ Maxx when I swipe my card at the cashier?

Oh shit, I just forgot, my stocks in Microsoft been sending me checks

Fuck, this shit is getting too complex

Ring-a-ding-ding (Brr), ring-a-ding-ding (Brr), "Hello?"

Sorry, can I talk to Mr. Goldstein? ("No")

"Could the time you left to file be any shorter?" (I know but—)

"Don't you know you gotta make an estimated payment every quarter?"

[Chorus: Stamper]

Bringing truth from the booth, playa, what you gon' do?

Get your W-2 and throw it up (Throw it up)

I did my taxes, baby (Alright)

And to celebrate I'm gonna jack off in the bathtub

Filed and all done, federal, local and state (Deal)

Fat refund coming my way, and yo

When I'm jacking in the bath I'm gonna bend my wiener up as I'm cumming so I can shoot it in my face

[Breakdown: Stamper]

Truth from the booth, playa, what you gon' do—do?

Throw it up (Throw it up, throw it up)

I did my taxes, baby

And to celebrate I'm gonna jack off—off—off

Filed and all done, all done—done

Fat refund, fat—fat refund

Fat, fat, fa—fa—fat, fat refund

Fat refund, fat, fat wiener

[Verse 4: Stamper]

I'm confident in Congress

Pour me shots of tax until I vomit

Aw, my Uncle Sam needs money? I'm on it (Bitch)

Raise my tax and I'ma yawn, and here, take my wallet

It's the least I could pay, living in the U.S.A. is a Goddamn privilege

Even though most dudes I know are jobless and struggling and hopeless

With a broken promise from college that put 'em in debt to the neck where the rope is

And health insurance? What, are you joking?, regardless

All hands to the poop deck, it's not as hard as expected

You fill out some boxes and check "no" or "yes", if you got exemptions

Or if you're married or single or—wait, why?

You DTF IRS? Damn, girl, didn't expect this

Pull that pussy out and I'ma eat it for breakfast

That's right, like a big bowl of cereal

That's right, a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios

That's right, I think I'm out of material (Yo, bye!)

[Chorus: Stamper]

Bringing truth from the booth, playa, what you gon' do?

Get your W-2 and throw it up (Throw it up)

I did my taxes, baby (Alright)

And to celebrate I'm gonna jack off in the bathtub

Filed and all done, federal, local and state (Deal)

Fat refund coming my way, and yo

When I'm jacking in the bath I'm gonna bend my wiener up as I'm cumming so I can shoot it in my face

[Outro: Stamper]

So do your taxes, kid—I did, it was on my bucket list

Just above drugging a kid and holding him down and fucking him in the butt

While he struggles around—and wait, what?

Shit, I'm just kidding, wait

(Fat, fat, fat—fat refund)

I'm not a pedophile or a rapist, I swear!

(Fat, fat, fat—fat refund)

(Fat, fat, fa—fa—fat, fat wiener)

Or am I? (I'm not)

Kids smell like cookies and butt and shit, it's fucking gross