Why’s that fellow well-to-do?
Uh, because he’s parked a screw
in their anal thoroughfare;
he’s stolen a thorough share.
Guys trapped, snatched are their dollars,
leaving grafted with choler.
Wrenching out their dimes,
he’s a wonder at crimes.

If you hew to ruses, well, that’s all on you—
from your purse to his money shifts:
Pullin’ off a grift.

He’s lightened you and away totes
purses he’s picked; what remains? Motes.
Cash is stripped;
pulled on you, a grift.

He’s got millions because he’s a duper;
lyin’ line you fell for in a stupor.
Super looter.

Conned by shtick of folly-seller.
Now you’re sick, a bawly yeller…treasure lift.
Pulled on you’s a grift.

Tricked you bad, schmuck, guy's a dreaded baddie.
Dude is shady, on a rob-your-bank-spree (now you’re cranky).
Huge amount of fraud is whopping;
it goes way beyond eye-popping. You been stiffed.
Putz, you bought the grift.