To cadge a vote: it’s all about that base,
’bout that base, go get ’em.
All fired up, crowd called “base,” go get ’em!
Votes, get ’em. . . !

Nearly every year, you gotta go woo.
The truth, just fake it, fake it to get ’em to love you.
You pander with gloom, doom in election race—
what you say’s bunk, and right to their faces.
Go out and make the scene, working that photo op,
Of course your shit ain’t real
and it’s over the top.
Stick to your duty and raise them funds.
But all the lip from you is bullshit—
gotta throw ’em all a sop.
Yeah, your Mammon deity is what above all you prize
But to give donors boners, you gotta get your mind right.
You’ll collect more way than six figures; own ’em, a sharpie pol.
Yo, you must press the skin, too
and show ’em you sing the same song.
Because, you know, it’s all about that base,
’bout that base—go fetch ’em.
All fired up, crowd called “base,” go fetch ’em!
Votes, fetch ’em. . . !

Then bring your booty back
But you cannot just skim the riches. Hey,
watch how you play it—to appeal to each sap.
Let’s be clear: finesse your rap
Every inch of you is bullshit, from the bottom to the top—
better wear colored contacts so they won’t see your brown eyes.
Unalloyed, the same gambit whether you are left or right
It’s OK to make each fib bigger; make your drone Barbital,
and you will lull them into
being clones you own all day long.

Because it’s all about that base—
shouts to base, relentless. . . .