In shadowed vaults where fortunes gleam,
Crypto bleeds in silicon dreams.
Bitcoin bows, Ethereum cracks,
Altcoins scatter like worthless scraps. Devils whisper, "Moon soon, my friend!"
Then yank the rug—it's all pretend.
Smart contracts smartly empty your bag,
While founders flee in a private jet lag. Liquidity dries like desert sand,
Charts turn red across the land.
HODLers howl at the moon's cruel jest,
"Next bull run?"—yeah, in the next life, I guess. From Solana slips to meme coin graves,
It's all a casino with loaded knaves.
So light your bags on fire, sing this tune:
The greatest rug is trusting June. Drip... drip... the bleed won't quit,
Welcome to crypto—where dreams get hit.
But chin up, anon, in this wild game—
We'll rug the ruggers... or go down in flames.