Fairweigh

[Verse 1]
Hat? (check) Tie? (check)
Apron on? (not yet)
Tie that bitch up now I'm set
How many hours can I get?
I walk up to the counter
It's my turn to help somebody out
They say they lookin'
So I tell them
"When you're ready give a shout."
They take their time
And I take mine
We don't get out of this bitch until 9
If you don't mind
Let me explain to you
All the different shit you'll find
We got ground beef, chicken breast
Pork chops, fuck the rest
Hurry up and make a choice
Or take these bullets to your chest

[Chorus]
We got boneless chicken breast, Iowa chops
We be Clinton's number one, it's where everyone shops
Everybody got black bottoms, white tops
Chrome belt buckles, high socks
Part-timer in the back they be doing the dishes
Feet swiping on the ground, we be fuckin' them bitches
Cause we livin' it up, almost everyday
Yeah, cause we work at Fairweigh

[Verse 2]
So I take my break
15 minutes at a mother fuckin' picnic table
Times up I gotta go back
Grab some meat, pack, heat wrap, and print the label
Then I trip and slip and try to catch my fall
But my damn hand lands on the mother fuckin' saw
And it's on so I chop off my arm
And have to crawl to the phone to make a 911 call
Just kiddin' man that wasn't real
So now i'm back at the counter
And i'm makin' a deal
I'm tryin' to sell the extra lean i'm finna make it a steal
99 cents a pound bitch make it a meal
The chick buys 10 pounds man she lookin' good
I swipe my foot on the ground man everyone should
But right when I ask if she's busy at 9 I hear...
(Konrad, you got phone call on the market line.)

[Chorus x2]