How D'ya Like Me Now?
I was always the lucky one.
Was my mother's favorite son.
She read to me from Marx and Chairman Mao.
My old man was an absentee,
A truly brilliant deportee,
But he was more than Kenya could allow.
I only wanted every spotlight on me.
More exaltation than the Trinity.
I only needed constant confirmation --
Applause for my innate divinity.
How d'ya like me now?
Now that I'm president?
Up here in the Black Howse,
Folks think I'm Heaven-sent.
Communistic policies
Are all I dream about.
Still don't know where I was born.
How d'ya like me now?
* with apologies to Toby Keith
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