You call yourselves thieves?
I've stolen my share of gold sheaves.
Ravaged my share of nappy caves,
You're nothing more than knaves.
I'll relieve you of your riches
And drop your ladies bridges.
Leave her dripping and gape.
But no, it won't be assault!
The ladies cream at the sound of my voice, I speak in a way that leaves 'em with no choice.
I'm a klepto of sorts,
The type that never aborts.
I see my schemes through,
That much is true.
Trumpets will sing!
For the bandit king!