The Ballad of Scrappy Musk: Richest Incel Alive

When Billions Can't Buy Game (A WAG TEAM TechBro Tragedy)

In this installment of Mixtape on the Titanic: When Scooby-Doo meets Silicon Valley's most eligible* bachelor (*terms and conditions apply, must be willing to relocate to Mars).

WAG TEAM presents a musical exploration of what happens when you have all the money in the world but still can't buy game.

Starring:

• Elon Musk as Silicon Valley's Most Eligible* Bachelor (*terms, conditions, and personality requirements apply)

• Several increasingly desperate neural networks

• A collection of surprisingly patient shareholders

• Moby's growing concerns about the billionaire-to-personality ratio

• One very expensive Twitter acquisition that works perfectly fine (trust me bro)

Special appearances by:

• Various ghosted dating app matches

• The spirit of rejected acquisition offers

• One very expensive Twitter ratio

• Several questionable Dogecoin schemes

• The collected works of "But I'm an Alpha!" literature

The YankoBoop

Here - play it! The Ballad of Scrappy Musk.

Available on Spotify, Apple Music, and wherever else billionaire dating fails are meticulously documented (now accepting Dogecoin? Also free)

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#WagTeam #TechbroTragedy #MobyWatch #BillionaireBlues

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The Ballad of Scrappy Musk: Richest Incel Alive

In a world of wealth, where power reigns,
Lives a man whose cringe outweighs his gain.
With billions in hand and rockets to fire,
He’s still the dude you’d swipe left to retire.
("Puppy Power!
Wait, no—money power! Is that cooler?")

His mansions full-up with NFTart,
But empty where it counts—his heart.
Each Cybertruck, a virgin's dream,
More angular: his self-esteem.
Posting hims memes at 3 A.M.,
While fan boys cope and praise his “stem,”
Yet every poll and every tweet
Just proves he's maidenless elite.

"Let me at 'em!" his Elonia cry,
As blue checks fade and ratings die.
A Bond villain wannabe at best,
More Scrappy-Doo than sigma blessed.
A Bond villain? Nah, a Reddit thread,
The richest loser you’ll ever dread.

Oh, Scrappy Musk, the cringe machine!
("Puppy Power can't buy the scene!")
Richest man alive, yet socially drained,
(“Can’t buy game, can’t hide the strain!”)
With rockets pointed to the stars,
Billions burning his emotional scars.
With endless funds and dreams aglow,
Still can't buy a personality, though.

He challenged Zuck to show his might,
Then ghosted like a first date night.
His algorithms set to find
Why no one swipes on his great mind.

Each neural link, each SpaceX dream,
Can't fix his dating self-esteem.
The richest man who can't relate,
Forever stuck in incel state.
("But I'm an Alpha! Look at my follower count!
...Why is everyone laughing?")

[A tragic soliloquy of digital loneliness]
Oh, what's a billionaire to do
When money can't make dreams come true?
Each rocket launched, each platform bought,
Still leaves him in his lonely thought.
He's the richest man, yet somehow poor,
In likability and much, much more.
("Please love me! I have rockets!")

Poor Scrappy Musk, our techbro king,
("Cringe and ratio, still can't wing!")
His empire built on posting string,
("Touch grass!" the masses sing)
With cyber-dreams and doggycoin schemes,
Still posting L's in my meme streams.

[Spoken in increasingly desperate tech-bro]
"But I have a blue check! And rockets!
And... and... a submarine that doesn't work!"
(Tinder Match Failed: Insufficient Personality)
"Who needs friends when you have... uh... Dogecoin?!"
"I'm not weird! I'm a visionary! Right? Guys? Guys?"
"Would anyone like to be my Plus-one for Mars?"