Mr. Lif - Live From the Plantation lyrics

Oh, my fucking god, man oh, fucking serious
Jesus Christ, man already?
Man, time flies like a motherfucker

Rise and shine yet another day to toss away
What does my clock display? It says eight
Shit, 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

"'Cause, I've had it"

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?

Aw, this fucking place sucks
Same shit every day
Like to wring the boss's neck, though
If only dreams could come true

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)

Jesus, I must have been daydreaming, man

My boss walks by
He's looking just like an asshole
Smiling 'cause he jerks niggas
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 shit's out of tune
'Cause the function of our life is
Just to work and consume
Fuck 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, jerk?
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 fuck off the wall

Yeah, that's right, motherfucker
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 motherfucker up, man