9 to 5 (Feat. XI)

So I was sitting in my cubicle today, and I realized, ever since I started working, um, every single day of my life has been worse than the day before it. So that means that every single day that you see me, that's on the worst day of my life
 What about today? Is today the worst day of your life?
 Yeah
 Wow, that's messed up
 I tried slinging crack rock and I never had a jump shot. I got to find a job...
 Pockets hanging out. I walk around this earth with the same smile
 In and out of seven bucks, I wished I stayed around
 Washed the taste out. Heard about this intellect survive
 Paid to surface and deflect the hits or economy slides
 Narrow death group. It's 7: 50 now. Shitty town
 Watch me sit around all day and still ain't got it figured out
 Bitter mouth from slaving the sweaty hour
 Never taking a shower and stacking a fucking penny tower
 Many tell us that's hard work but apart from the fact
 That it takes money to make money—it's hard to get back
 We're charging the trap, plus in large in our part of the map
 Dabbling, magic making through music, depart from the past
 Scraping bottom—the change in the couch will pay for the fallen
 Blaming all of them blatantly and ballin'. Save us the comments
 Uh, the days of the honest have came and gone, singin' the same song
 Bringing the [?], the game is made as a pawn
 I hate this job! I hate this goddamn job and I don't need it!
 Yo, is this what I'm gonna have to take to the grave?
 Or is this punishment for the mistakes that I made?
 Yo, it's not, but if you stop, you get stuck in disgrace
 And ripped off. It happens often—from dust to your coffin
 Fuck the alarm clock—cheap shot to my job
 While [?], large eyes, sporting morning hard cock
 Swollen tongue. Dried saliva tastes like [?] rum
 No deodorant as I step out into the molten sun
 Caught in the idiot race. Lost in the infinite days
 With pitiful slaves that piss on your grave for minimum wage
 I wish I could scrape just a little of change
 Take a fistful of fates to bang in exchange to break the chains, get rid of my reins
 I hate my day job. I need a raise God dammit, these lil' fakers got my big toe in the trigger
 This is the way west where pay checks can break necks
 Sway belated state debts, space cadets, and trains wrecks
 Age of Aquarius—save the kids and bury this
 Fuck a terrorist—I'll give away into some scary shit
 Swelling in a hellhole, it feels so bad
 No helping hand, they sold my soul to the repo man
 Looks like you've been missing a lot of work lately
 I wouldn't say I've been missing it
 Yo, is this what I'm gonna have to take to the grave?
 Or is this punishment for the mistakes that I made?
 Yo, it's not, but if you stop, you get stuck in disgrace
 And ripped off. It happens often—from dust to your coffin
 Yo, raging torment. Money fails me. Work is all I see too often
 These walls, I hear them speak, they say, "Get blocked in."
 All contained inside this life. Drawn this comic drama series
 Top competing amateurs, it seems so into Charlie's theories
 There ain't no better half. There ain't no greener grass
 There ain't no such thing as luck or even being fast
 But you can see it's rad, but below the surface
 Is it's underground—support beneath the floor is what its purpose is
 I spent my time wrong. I'll spend my bucks worse
 Tell me something's wrong with me, but call me up with pills at first
 Yeah, there's a gift for that: it's time off and raises
 This business is hatred. Jaw-deep in this matrix, though
 Helping grow or let go
 Ain't no bankroll in Mexico
 So take both your bags and your hopes
 But keep the death blow—a minimum wage and some max taxes
 Clip that by burning the bridge with your last matchstick
 We don't have a lot of time on this Earth. We weren't meant to spend it this way
 It goes: lazy days in San Jo
 I exercise my right
 To walk the block broke, screaming, "Fuck a 9 to 5!"
 Maybe I can stack some spare change by the weekend
 Until then, I'll be known as the cheap friend who needs ends
 I tend to panhandle—I got quarters to make
 So I stand outside of businesses and buck corporate snakes
 My portion of pay goes directly to my drinking habits
 The other half falls out my pockets while I'm leaning back
 Word's I wasn't put on this Earth to serve customers
 Unless it's slinging my team's product (we were customers...)
 Juggling money and music. Catch me bumbling stupid
 Scribbling blueprints and plans to jumpstart this movement
 None of us are slackers, man, that's the wrong term
 We're all earning our spot, making this job long-term
 I'll walk these busy streets as long as Earth exists
 Sporting ripped plaid, faded blue jeans, and dirty kicks
 Human beings were not meant to sit in little cubicles staring at computer screens all day
 Yo, is this what I'm gonna have to take to the grave?
 Or is this punishment for the mistakes that I made?
 Yo, it's not, but if you stop, you get stuck in disgrace
 And ripped off. It happens often—from dust to your coffin
 Look at me, jerking off in the shower. This will be the highlight of my day. It's all downhill from here