corrija a letra Letra If Trump Was In Hamilton por Jon Cozart

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How does a blowhard, b*st*rd, son of a bigoted benefactor
Host of the business equivalent of The Bachelor
Pastor the party of family values and sin
With flow so foul you’d think it’s shooting out the wrong end

By song’s end he’ll hone his own brand
A real-estate mogul just like his old man
His pop had stole land from folks with no plans
Made out fresh in the depression with Queens in both hands

The floor plans to his mansion had 23 rooms
Hired a chef to fill his five children’s silver spoons with fancy foods
And ruined em’, his son was a fool, he put the brute into
An army institute in lieu of high school

Picture this: eyes full of fire, the heir to the empire
Staring straight down the barrel, his future in peril, he barely made honor roll
Dodged the draft, thanking his dividends
Cause anything is possible with pockets full of Benjamins

He grew in ambition, took a position as president
Of his father's complexes for quote “Jews and Executives”
But having never abetted a black resident
He fled when the FEDs sued Freddy for prejudice

He was desperate to shed his dad’s shadow and move on
Standing upon the precipice of a brand new Don
A Prodigal son rising to answer his true calling
On the East Side horizon one name would glow upon ‘em, call him:

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