Stro Elliot - I Hate My Job lyrics

[Mr. J. Medeiros] Steel toe walking With my heel swole Fought for every meal Saw the clock and how it feels slow Carving with a pickaxe Coughing until I spit black Boss saying this kid raps With his sick laugh Sold his own dreams so he could sit back And yell go team with a six pack You can tell by the words in his eyes That he ain't ever tasted nothing but a burger and fries [Mr. J. Medeiros] You're arrogant I'm a waiter in an apron Fake grin Leaving your table just like a play pen Days spent taking your order to pay rent Ate for forty dollars and left me with eight cents How come you don't know how to tip Seriously How come you don't know how to tip Wise up before they size you up in the kitchen And leave you a little something you didn't think was missing