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letra de 9-5 (ston roses) - rebecca rocklynn

[verse 1]
ever wonder what your life be like when it’s not nine to five?
ever wonder what it’s like not having to save up to die?
you wake up at 6:30, breakfast always early
gotta beat traffic surely, make your boss some money
no one gives a f-ck about you or your family
stuck in a rut, be grateful for your misery
can’t wait to live your life, when the time is right
hoping for a day off, so you can do laundry
watched on cameras, know the company mantra
you hear it in your sleep, when you can actually sleep
always on your feet, pay taxes to the elite
stars causing uproar, to distract you from war
that’s how the government scores, thank you for your support
man all you should do is be, do you feel free?
smoking weed illegal, till government makes it feasible
spent years jailing their people, man cigarettes should be illegal
nah, making too much money off tobacco and cancer
it ain’t even funny, um, keeping people sick is evil
only cash going through me, i’m sayin’, “f-ck the man”
till i went to louis and i spent a couple grand
on one f-cking purse, that everyone thinks is fake
need the best or i’m worse, label me my worth

[break]

[verse 2]
you work to pay for a place to stay
work all day always gone anyway
working to live end up living to work
sure you could give it up, wouldn’t be worse
tired of suckin’ it up, got no reverse
don’t look up for luck, put yourself first
know a good start, self sustainable turf
live off the grid it’s good for your planet
don’t take much money, government can’t stand it
get solar panels make out like a bandit
the change won’t be that rough, no that sh-t gonna feel right
you’ll actually use your stuff and get to live your life
you can only be in one room at a time
you guys are dreaming if you think i’m lying
n-body’s seeing past the dollar signs (except kendrick)
mansions owning you this time, stuck inside
as for me i got a plan, to rap and ran, rap and run
as for rooms have two or one, chill out in sun after rapping’s done
as for food get a garden son, some live chickens, eggs don’t outrun
yeah

- rebecca rocklynn

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