chorus:
This is an accurate depiction
Of how we’re living inside a thinking man’s prison
Slavecamp, creatively constricted
Slavecamp, mentally convicted
repeat 1x

1st verse (Phon-X)

My boss is an Fn’ A-hole C-sucker, trying to reprimand me like my mother
He says one thing than wants another, so when he’s coming I’m running for cover
Or else he’ll smother me like a jealous lover
And discover my obsessive plan
To do my own thing while working for the man stressing
Don’t question a task that last hours
He’ll nit-pick every bit to show power
Nothing’s his fault even though it’s opposite
His composite can be confused with vomit & feces
He’s sneaky, he has hidden cameras and he’s peeking
Behind my monitor, I promise ya
One day you’ll hear this song and know all along
I made money from you being a fuck face
My life is like that movie office space
Except my cube has no walls
No room to scratch my balls
Hear every word of my personal calls
"Word, Phon’s mom has hangnail?"
It’s not logical – to express my frustration in words is not possible!

Chorus

This is an accurate depiction
Of how we’re living inside a thinking man’s prison
Slavecamp, creatively constricted
Slavecamp, mentally convicted
repeat 1x

2nd verse – (Shred Lexicon)

Responsibility illin’ me out
Subliminally intimate joust in the infinite
Significant presence of something other
Smothering me and so I suffer
Grasping at the brass ring while the devil’s laughing at me
Passing for the corporate face
Tellin’ me anybody can be replaced…..
Is there a place for the autonomous man within that structure
Or must I rupture in order to build
It’s true I’m skilled but not in diplomacy
I take control of my destiny through poetry
Reprioritize your corporatized lives and organize the tribes!
Don’t you know that prophetic scribes defy pathetic cries?
Rise up and be accounted for! With bountiful pride!
Live and vibrant. My vibe nonviolent.
Who made the silent majority the authority
On how to horribly shortchange our destiny
Don’t just pretend to be satisfied
Escape from slavecamp! Flee the penitentiary!

Chorus

This is an accurate depiction
Of how we’re living inside a thinking man’s prison
Slavecamp, creatively constricted
Slavecamp, mentally convicted
repeat 1x

3rd verse (Phon-X)

I step into the subway depth, instantly I’m a sweltering mess awaiting my ride to death
Over time, with non-paid overtime expected
Disease races to find places to hide in my mind
Plus I’m not respected
Cuz ulterior motives are injected in my method
I must escape to climb to the fate of my dreams
Can you relate I’m on the wrong team scheming?
To regenerate my headpiece
I’m missing a beat where the tracks meet
It’s taking a back seat
My mind packs heat in the form of intellect
But my employer’s paranoia shut off my internet access
Now I’m sending Exfyl faxes on when we’ll practice
They jack my check to pay taxes, then they send me home with the net
While my boss lives off the gross of actors? FUCK THAT!
White & blue collars holler if you hear me
Bosses fear my ambition cuz it clearly goes against their mission statement
Their enslavement is about as much fun as Rapecamp
If such a thing could exist, I’d be penetrated by his fist
While doing bank recs, I got him pissed
Cuz I’m only there for checks and he doesn’t respect that my work gets done
That’s irrelevant, since I’m hella bent on head-beats
He busts my balls on pathetic spreadsheet aesthetics
And if I don’t excel on Excel templates, I’m destined for an extended sentence
See the resemblance to a frontal lobotomy?
See why I always have a bottle in front of me?
See why I must win the lottery? My boss needs sodomy
Like in the back of the Bada Bing
Come in my office, let me cum in your orifice
But I don’t listen to exorbitant propositions
I stay busy making myself look busy, when in truth
I’m writing these rhymes of self-pity

Chorus

This is an accurate depiction
Of how we’re living inside a thinking man’s prison
Slavecamp, creatively constricted
Slavecamp, mentally convicted