Mr. J. Medeiros and Stro Elliot - I Hate My Job

I quit
Steel toe walking
With my heel swole
Fought for ever meal
Saw the clock
cnd 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
cnd yell go team with a six pack
You can tell by the words in his eyes
That he aint ever tasted nothing but a burger and fries

Your 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
cte 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
cnd give you a little something
You didn't think was missing

Written by:
BRIAN ELLIOT ROBERSON, JASON CHRISTOPHER MEDEIROS, BRIAN ROBERSON, JASON MEDEIROS

Publisher:
Lyrics © Songtrust Ave

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