I won’t work for the system no more
I’ll sell my bed and sleep on the floor
I spend what I make to pay for this place
I finish dead last in this twisted race
I’m a credit casualty looking for a loan
The TV blares once again I’m stoned

CHORUS:
I’ve got no time for anyone
Woke up this morning with a business plan
Only time for Number one
I won’t be their boy, I’m my own man
I make the deals I call the shots
Confused in the city, Confined in a rut
You read the lines I twist the plots
Got my routine, gotta get my cut
Get My Cut
Get My Cut
Get My Cut
Get My Cut

I’m tired of paying your vacations
And hearing the shit on the radio stations
Reading the lies in magazines
Telling Me I’m gonna still be in my teens
Selling us stuff that we don’t need
Legalized tobacco Illegal Weed

CHORUS

All around me seems like everybody’s doing fine
Driving fancy Cars Hanging out late at bars
And I start to wonder where’s mine
Seems like nothing want to change for the better
Between the lines, behind the times
I follow it to the letter
But I’m gonna write my own script
From the cradle to the crypt, You’d better believe it

All Lyrics written by Chris Codish
All Lyrics are copywritten and published by Little Fortissimo Music BMI