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Live From the Plantation

Mr. Lif

Letra

    *alarm ringing*
    "Oh my fucking god man, ahhh. fucking serious"
    Jesus Christ, man. already?
    Man, time flies like a motherfucker."
    Rise and shine!
    Yet another day to toss away
    What does my clock display?
    It says eight
    Shit, I'm late for work again, so then
    I dip with my pad and my pen
    Step into the work place with my work face
    Wince at my time card cuz I'm scarred
    Mad cuz I sacrifice my day and gets me
    A trifling hourly wage of six fifty, nifty
    Now I'm off to slave quarters
    With a whole bunch of other people's sons and daughters
    Working so they can be mothers and fathers
    Laboring real hard, hoping the boss offers
    More petty cash to his bums and paupers
    Kissing his ass cuz they hoping they prosper
    Here's the math:
    You work a thirty a day, away
    The government takes a thirty a check, correct
    You go home and drink cuz you don't get
    An ounce of respect, and your spirit is wrecked
    Life is a gift to be enjoyed, every second every minute
    It's temporary, not infinite
    Yet I find myself looking at the clock
    hoping for the day to fly by, so I ask myself "Why?"
    I'm doing this remedial work for second graders
    I'm an educator with mega-flavor, so
    Maybe I should just jump up and get ill
    Maybe I should let these people know they're being killed
    Maybe I should try my very best to chill, and get paid
    Cuz I gotta pay bills, raa!

    "Excuse me brother, can you please stop making that noise
    so I can talk? Thank you. Now the boss says he wants you to come up
    with more copies of these checks, and the last thing he wants is you to
    move the desk to the basement, and can I have this stapler?"
    ("Hey there champ, big boss man says you been late
    3 days in a row, better sharpen up")

    Aw, this fucking place sucks - same shit everyday
    Like to wring the boss' neck though, if only dreams could come true

    Dead boss, somebody call Red Cross
    I guess he got caught up in my mental holocaust
    How much did it cost?
    Just a little piece of my mind for peace of mind
    "But he's bleeding!"
    Oh no, leave him. He'll be fine
    He'll heal on his own
    if you just give him some time
    Considering the fact that his face is misaligned
    His legs are over there lying right next to his spine
    "Lunchtime!" Huh? Oh, Jesus, must have been daydreaming
    My boss walks by, he's looking just like an asshole
    Smiling because he jerks niggas for minimum cash flow
    He's cool to my face but I swear I heard him laugh though
    Tickled by the fact that I'm the modern day Sambo
    And just when I think that I'm about to go Rambo
    I call up my man and he says he understands, yo
    We all are being murdered by a similar process
    Whether you work at the candy store
    Or slave at the office
    The purpose of our life is just to serve the economy
    They misinform our minds to paint a picture of harmony
    But if you listen then you know that shits out of tune
    Cuz the function of our life is just to work and consume
    Fuck reaching out to help the next, there ain't any room
    Just close your eyes and block your ears and march to your doom
    But since I really ain't getting paid for my time
    I pulled out my pen and started writing a rhyme
    Can't you see that I'm busy, jerk?
    Don't you dare approach me with busy work
    Take another step and get hurt
    By the man that embodies mad years of anger
    A cool bro, soon to be the Boston Strangler
    Everything inside of me is about to erupt
    Cuz a righteous individual just likes to corrupt
    I knew he'd lock me up if I started a brawl
    So I deaden, and I punch the clock the fuck off the wall

    "Yea that's right motherfucker
    you can't keep underpaying people and mistreating them all the time
    That's gonna resort to crime.
    As a matter of fact, you know what?
    Faks, yo cut this motherfucker, man."

    9-1-1


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