Pump and Dump

Lyrics

You hear that?
That's the sound of opportunity.
Or what we tell 'em opportunity sounds like.

A room full of killers in cheap suits.
Glen Ross leads on a laminated sheet.
We call it Quantum-Solara, call it whatever.
Something with tech, something with 'future' in the name.
The name don't matter.
What matters is the story we're selling.
Painting masterpieces over a bad connection,
selling oceanfront property to men who live in the desert.
Got a guy in Boca, just cashed his pension.
Thinks he's on the ground floor of the next big thing.
Buddy, the ground floor's already sold.
We're in the penthouse, watching you climb.

We pump it up.
Build that rocket ship out of paper and promises.
Tell 'em it's headed for the moon, guaranteed.
We pump it up.
Light the fuse with their own damn money.
And when it hits the stratosphere... we sell.
Leave 'em holding the bag while the sky falls down.

Used to be pink sheets, stocks nobody wanted.
Now it's a coin with a cartoon dog on it,
a token for a video game that ain't even built yet.
Same script, different font.
"Get in now before the institutions do."
"This ain't financial advice, but..."
"Diamond hands, brother, hold the line."
We just feed 'em the lines they already read on Reddit.
Make 'em think it was their brilliant idea all along.
Confirmation bias is a hell of a drug.
And we're the dealers, dialing for dollars.

We pump it up.
Build that rocket ship out of paper and promises.
Tell 'em it's headed for the moon, guaranteed.
We pump it up.
Light the fuse with their own damn money.
And when it hits the stratosphere... we sell.
Leave 'em holding the bag while the sky falls down.

Then comes the signal.
A text from a burner phone, just a number.
The price hits the target.
Volume spikes.
And it's a race to the exit.
We ain't taking the stairs, we're taking the express elevator straight to the bank.
While they're screaming 'buy the dip,' we're chartering the jet.
The lines go quiet.
The board turns red.
Beautiful, ain't it? The silence of a clean getaway.

Another day, another ticker symbol.
They call it a crime.
We call it capitalism, unfiltered.
Someone's gotta be the last one holding.
Just ain't never gonna be us.