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letra de fuck my job - mr. sos

[hook: old vocal sample]
evening is a time of day
night time, nothing much to say
don’t know what to do
but i can…

[chapter 13: speaking in the background over beginning sample]
d-mn man… just got out of work
f-cking whipped right now man
d-mn i don’t even got that much money from this sh-t, that’s the worst part
(i need a nap)
… you know what, you know what

[chorus: chapter 13]
man f-ck my job!
i feel like a puppet that’s been stuck in a box
working for these pig headed republican slobs
for a bucket to slop
my credits got me indebted whether i want it or not
so f-ck my job!
i feel like a puppet that’s been stuck in a box
working for these pig headed republican slobs
for a bucket to slop
my credits got me indebted whether i want it or not

[verse 1: chapter 13]
hey neighbour! we’re you going?
“i gotta go to work to make paper… ”
arn’t you tired of being corporate slave labour?
“huh? i’m not a slave”
oh i see i’ve got to explain this to you bob
see you’ve been locked in a cage, trapped without chains
content with your little spot in the matrix without ever stopping to think
‘hey wait a minute, this jobs a pain in my -ss’
everyday i hop on the train, my bus p-ssing
rush as fast as i can just not to be late
f-ck that! this sh-t is insane
you’re mentally enslaved cause you’re too busy to think til the end of the day
but you’re still stessing at home even after getting your pay
cause these bill collecters are on the phone and you need to split what you made
all you could think to do is pop in a video tape or video game just to start
drifting away
to forget this senseless pain that you wished you could change
but isn’t strange how you just sit and watch the idiot box?
even though you don’t want any part of it in any way
you just wish it would stop
but you listen to all the usual talk and misery explained in the news
and go to work to feel safe, confined in your cubicles walls
but i’m taking up far too much of your time
you should be off before you’re late, bob
you’re doing such a beautiful job

[chorus: chapter 13]

[hook]

[verse 2: chapter 13]
you ever work for an uptight republican nutcase?
who kept you up nights plus doubles on sunday
til’ you, do in your apr-n and f-ck up his holiday
cause he’s refusing your wages and cutting your lunch breaks
the average worker’s just a nervous wreck
who hides from his boss hip hops heard casettes
we’re all 9 to 5 slaved, dying to get paid
for the whip at the crack of dawn cause you ain’t trying to be late
for your routine commutes and petty office bickering
sick to your stomach but you can’t get a docters visit in
overworked, underpaid, you wanna go berserk and run away
but you need the cheque so you guess you’re gonna stay
for another day to keep talking and b-tching
and constantly wishing your boss wasn’t tripping
so you start to wonder if your job is a prison
cause you just another number that’s lost in the system
if you fit the profile i can offer suggestions
but i need to ask a couple of questions:
do you spend days in your cubicle? (yep)
everyday you would say is the usual (stress)
your life you proclaim is a beautiful (mess)
so you freak out when your computers broken, bite down on your cuticles
then you’re just a victim of this capitalist system
quit your job, move to vegas and just cash all your chips in (yeahh!)

[hook]

[verse 3: sos]
aiyyo, f-ck my job cause it’s f-cking hard
i don’t wanna punch the clock, i should punch my boss
right in his f-cking jaw cause he sucks and taunts
about what i should do, like i don’t know what’s involved
i really think my superviser wants to be murdered
keeping me and not letting me leave for lunch to get burgers
plus it’s freezing and these cheapskates hate pumping the furnace
godd-mnit, i cannot stand customer service!
cause it’s nothing but a bunch of queers fl-stered and nervous
i hope my job gets robbed cause these f-ckers deserve it
everday is a 9 o’clock to 5 o’clock battle
store manager trippin’ off my 5 o’clock shadow
i mic check cause i sweat and can’t even afford to buy a nice bed
no, i don’t want to give you a price check – cause i quit
f-ck you! and f-ck you! i shout
you’re cool, but f-ck you! and f-ck you – i’m out

- mr sos

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