Live From the Plantation lyrics

[Spoken: Mr. Lif]
Oh, my f*cking god, man
Oh, f*cking serious
Jesus Christ, man
Already?
Man, time flies like a motherf*cker

[Verse 1]
Rise and shine
Yet another day to toss away
What does my clock display?
It says eight
sh*t, 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, 'cause I'm scarred
Mad 'cause I sacrifice my day and it 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 us bums and paupers
Kissing his ass, 'cause they hoping they prosper
Here's the math
You work a third of your day away
The government takes a third of your check, correct
You go home and drink
'Cause 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, 'cause I gotta pay bills
Rah
[Scratches]
"'Cause I've had it"

[Spoken: Woman and Man]
Excuse me, brother, could 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
Hey there, champ, big boss man says you've been late three days in a row
Better sharpen up
And the boss says he wants you to move your desk to the basement
And can I have this stapler?

[Spoken: Mr. Lif]
Aw, this f*cking place sucks
Same sh*t every day
Like to wring the boss's neck, though
If only dreams could come true

[Verse 2]
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)
[Spoken: Mr. Lif]
Jesus, I must have been daydreaming, man

[Verse 3]
My boss walks by, he's looking just like an as*h*le
Smiling 'cause he j*rks n*ggas for minimal 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're listening, you know that sh*t's out of tune
'Cause the function of our life is just to work and consume
f*ck 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 ain't really getting paid for my time
I pulled out my pen and started writing a rhyme
Can't you see that I'm busy, j*rk?
Don't 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's about to erupt
'Cause a righteous individual dislikes the corrupt
I knew he'd lock me up if I started a brawl
So I jetted and I punched the clock the f*ck off the wall
[Spoken: Mr. Lif]
Yeah, that's right, motherf*cker
You can't keep on underpaying people
And mistreating them all the time
That's gonna result in crime
As a matter of fact, you know what?
Fakts, yo, cut this motherf*cker up, man

[Scratches]
"I ain't the one"