Verse 1
Look,
Strap on the apron, tuck in the shirt
You’re a "superstar" Joe, covered in dirt
Talking 'bout Nashville, acting so hood
But you’re back of the house, where you stood and you stood
Checking the timer, flipping the meat
While you’re out in these streets being nothing but cheat
You played a big game with a hat and a grin
While you carried a sickness underneath your skin.
Chorus
You’re a local joke, a bottom-shelf fake
Everything you touch is a life you break
Gave me a disease then you took my kid
Then ran like a rat from the things you did
Clocked out of the clinic, clocked into the grill
You’re a low-life coward with no soul to fill.
Verse 2
Twelve hours later, yeah, that was the play?
Wait for the trauma then just walk away?
You think you’re an outlaw, a king of the road
But you’re just a parasite, a heavy-set load
I was bleeding and broken, you were checking your phone
Praying for a break so you could be alone
You’re "kitchen staff" living a country-song lie
The only thing "grand" is the oil in the fry.
Bridge
Check the receipts, check the blood on the floor
I’m a whole lot of woman, you’re a whole lot of "poor"
Not talking ‘bout money, I’m talking ‘bout heart
You’re a generic brand version of a bad work of art.
Verse 3
But let's talk about low, let's talk about bottom
You took all your morals and decided you shot 'em
Went to a concert, tried to act like a man
With your ex-girlfriend’s mama in the back of a van?
Yeah, you’re hitting the high notes, screaming her name
While you’re ruining families, you got no shame
Sleeping with her mother? That’s a brand new peak
For a "country star" fry-cook, you’re a certified freak.
Verse 4
So go ahead, Joe, keep singing your songs
To the drive-thru window where you belong
"You want fries with that?"—man, that’s your peak
While I’m burning the bridge of a coward and sneak
You left me at zero, but I’m rising up fast
You’re a stain on my sleeve, you’re a ghost in the past.
Verse 5
In this small town, Joe, there ain't nowhere to hide
We all know about the snow that you’re keeping inside
Yeah, you’re sniffing your paycheck, chasing that high
Then you wet the bed while the sun’s in the sky
Waking up in a puddle, looking pathetic and weak
With a micropenis energy and a yellow-stained sheet
You and Grace making "plans"? Yeah, we see the design
Childish games for a man with a broken-down spine.
Outro
Keep the uniform on.
Keep the grease in your hair.
I’m the one who survived.
You’re the one who wasn't there.
(Mic drop)