86’d the Weak

Hook (chant – aggressive)

Eighty-six the weak, clear the line, move fast

If you can’t hold heat, you ain’t built to last

Steel in my grip, hear the war drums speak

In this kitchen battlefield—we 86 the weak

Eighty-six the weak, yeah we cut no slack

Tickets piling high but I never crack

From the flame to the blade, to the fire I peak

If you fold under pressure—you get 86’d, weak

Verse 1

Ticket rail bending, yeah it’s sagging with pain

Printer spitting death like a war drum rain

Expo yelling loud, yeah the orders collide

This ain’t dinner service—this a war inside

Grease on my skin, got the scars to prove

Every burn mark earned, every cut a groove

You either lock in tight or you fall behind

Ain’t no mercy here for the weak of mind

Call back sharp, yeah I bark like lead

“Two mid-rare ribeyes! Fire now!”—I said

If you hesitate once, that’s a fatal flaw

In the land of flame we respect one law

Hook (repeat)

Eighty-six the weak, clear the line, move fast

If you can’t hold heat, you ain’t built to last

Steel in my grip, hear the war drums speak

In this kitchen battlefield—we 86 the weak

Verse 2

Flat top roaring like a dragon’s breath

Every second counts, yeah we flirting with death

Pan flip clean, no a single miss

Send it out perfect—no second guess

Cold side lagging? Then I step across

I don’t wait for help—I become the boss

From the fryer to grill, I control the flow

Like a shield wall tight when the horns all blow

Heard too many talk but they fade real quick

When the heat turn up they don’t move like this

I been through the fire, I adapt, I rise

You see fear in them—I see fuel in my eyes

Bridge (dark + cinematic)

Ash on the floor, hear the silence creep

Only strong remain when the night runs deep

Raise your blade high, let the weak ones fall

There’s no place for doubt in this fire hall

Final Hook (big, layered)

Eighty-six the weak, clear the line, move fast

If you can’t hold heat, you ain’t built to last

Steel in my grip, hear the war drums speak

In this kitchen battlefield—we 86 the weak

Eighty-six the weak, yeah we cut no slack

Tickets piling high but I never crack

From the flame to the blade, to the fire I peak

If you fold under pressure—you get 86’d, weak