Fuck My Job

[Hook] {Old Vocal sample}
Evening is a time of day
Night time, nothing more to say
Don't know what to do
But I can...

[Chapter 13] {Speaking in the background over beginning sample} [bad word] man... Just got out of work [bad word] whipped right now man [bad word] I don't even got that much money from this [bad word]  that's the worst part
(I need a nap)
...You know what, you know what

[Chorus: Chapter 13]
Man [bad word] my job!
I feel like a puppet that's been stuck in a box
Working for these pig headed Republican slobs
For a bucket to slop
My credits got me indebted whether I want it or not
So [bad word] my job!
I feel like a puppet that's been stuck in a box
Working for these pig headed Republican slobs
For a bucket to slop
My credits got me indebted whether I want it or not

[Verse 1: Chapter 13]
Hey neighbour! We're you going?
"I gotta go to work to make paper..."
Arn't you tired of being corporate slave labour?
"Huh? I'm not a slave"
Oh I see I've got to explain this to you Bob
See you've been locked in a cage, trapped without chains
Content with your little spot in the Matrix without ever stopping to think
'Hey wait a minute, this jobs a pain in my [bad word] 
Everyday I hop on the train, my bus passing
Rush as fast as I can just not to be late [bad word] that! This [bad word] is insane
You're mentally enslaved because you're too busy to think til the end of the day
But you're still stessing at home even after getting your pay
cos these bill collecters are on the phone and you need to split what you made
All you could think to do is pop in a video tape or video game just to start
drifting away
To forget this senseless pain that you wished you could change
But isn't stranage how you just sit and watch the idiot box?
Even though you don't want any part of it in any way
You just wish it would stop
But you listen to all the usual talk and misery explained in the news
And go to work to feel safe, confined in your cubicles walls
But I'm taking up far too much of your time
You should be off before you're late, Bob
Man, you're doing such a beautiful job!

[Chorus: Chapter 13]
[Hook]

[Verse 2: Chapter 13]
You ever work for an uptight Republican nutcase?
Who kept you up nights plus doubles on Sunday
Til' you, do in your apron and [bad word] up his fun day(?)
Cos you refusing your wages and cutting your lunch breaks
The average worker's just a nervous wreck
Who hides from his boss hip hops third casettes
We're all 9 to 5 slaved, dying to get paid
for the whip, at the crack of dawn cos you ain't trying to be late
But you're routine commutes and petty office bickering
Sick to your stomach but you can't get a docters visit in
Overworked, underpaid, you wanna go berserk and run away
But you need the cheque so you guess you wanna stay, for another day
to cheap talking and [bad word]  and constantly wishing
your boss wasn't tripping
So you start to wonder if your job is a prison
Cos you just another number that's lost in the system
If you fit the profile I can offer suggestions
But I need to ask a couple of questions:
Do you spend days in you cubicle? (Yep)
Everyday you would say it's the usual (Stress)
Your life you proclaim is a beautiful (Mess)
So you freak out when your computers broken, bite down on your cuticles
Then you're just a victim of this capitalist system
Quit your job, move to Vegas and just cash all your chips in (yeahh!)

[Hook]

[Verse 3: SOS]
Aiyyo, [bad word] my job cos it's [bad word] HARD
I don't wanna punch the clock, I should punch my boss
Right in his [bad word] job cos he sucks and talks
about what I should do, like I don't know what's involved
I really think my superviser wants to be murdered
Keeping me and not letting me leave for l