“Warehouse Weaklings”

Walk in the warehouse — same story, same scam,

Lazy dudes duckin’ work like it’s part of the plan.

Always chillin’, always hidin’, always slowin’ the pace,

Got me wonderin’ how they even show up to the place.

They see me clock in — suddenly they disappear,

Movin’ like ghosts soon as real work gets near.

Then they whisper to the sup’ like some tattletale clowns,

“Hey, he’s here, he’s here — he can handle it now.”

Bro, please — y’all softer than bubble wrap stacks,

Standing around, arms crossed, leanin’ on racks.

If work was a sport, y’all wouldn’t make JV,

Meanwhile I carry the floor like it’s built into me.

⸻

Y’all lazy warehouse bodies stay dodgin’ the grind,

While I’m pickin’ up pieces that you leave behind.

Every mess, every task, every load you ditch —

I fix your mistakes like a warehouse stitch.

You talk big, but crumble under weight or demand —

You ain’t workers… you’re obstacles in the way of the plan.

⸻

How some of y’all get hired still blowin’ my mind,

You move slower than forklifts stuck in neutral behind.

Tryna look busy sweepin’ one crumb for an hour,

Actin’ like that broom handle got magical power.

Every time something breaks, y’all scatter like mice,

While I’m knee-deep in the chaos tryna make things right.

You brag about “workin’ hard” — bro, that’s comedy gold,

I’ve seen empty pallets hold more weight than you hold.

I’m fixin’ your loads, your counts, your mislabeled junk,

Turnin’ chaos into order while you hide in the bunk.

If effort had value, y’all would owe back rent —

Your contribution negative like you heaven-sent.

⸻

Y’all lazy warehouse bodies stay dodgin’ the grind,

While I’m pickin’ up pieces that you leave behind.

Every mess, every task, every load you ditch —

I fix your mistakes like a warehouse stitch.

You talk big, but crumble under weight or demand —

You ain’t workers… you’re obstacles in the way of the plan.

⸻

Let’s keep it real — everyone know who the muscle is,

Who the backbone, who the problem, who the struggle is.

I ain’t sayin’ names, but if the shoe fits tight,

Lace it up, wear it proud — you the reason for the fight.

I come in ready to grind — y’all come in ready to hide,

You clock in for show, I clock in with pride.

Lazy vibes sticky like dust on the racks,

But I power through the nonsense like I’m built from brass tacks.

While you stall, I haul — while you sleep, I sweep,

While you waste whole days, I run floors knee-deep.

If work ethic was measured, I’d be out of your league —

You’re the background noise in this warehouse fatigue.

⸻

Y’all lazy warehouse bodies stay dodgin’ the grind,

While I’m pickin’ up pieces that you leave behind.

You fade into the shadows when the workload thickens —

While I’m the one who steps up when the whole place quickens.

I’m the one they rely on — I