Intro]
Dear management…
F* you.**
Yeah, I said it.
Now listen up.
⸻
[Verse 1]
I’m sick of this shit, I’m tired every day,
Overworked and underpaid and that ain’t okay.
Late nights, early mornings, nothin’ ever slows,
Burnin’ that midnight oil till the engine blows.
Workin’ myself to the bone, no time to breathe,
Too tired to make it home, too tired to sleep.
⸻
[Pre-Chorus]
Overworked and underpaid,
Feelin’ unappreciated.
Stuck inside this damn matrix,
Lord knows I’m tryin’ to escape it.
⸻
[Chorus]
Dear management, F* you,
You ain’t got a clue.**
Blind leadin’ the blind tellin’ me what to do.
I hit every goal, finish every report,
But you still want more, yeah, you still want more.
“Keep your foot on the gas,” that’s all you ever say—
While I’m breakin’ my back just to make it through the day.
Dear management…
F* you.**
I mean it in the nicest way.
⸻
[Verse 2]
Leadership don’t know shit, just talk in circles,
Watchin’ numbers on a screen like all of us are hurdles.
Another damn meeting, hearin’ Bob from accounting,
Sayin’ “teamwork” like he’s the one out here drownin’.
I met my production—still you want more,
I turned in the file—still you want more.
Workin’ hard and movin’ fast, still someone’s on my ass,
But since you got your fancy degree, I guess that gives you class.
⸻
[Pre-Chorus]
Overworked and underpaid,
Tryin’ not to rage.
One foot in the grave,
But I gotta get that wage.
⸻
[Chorus]
Dear management, F* you,
You ain’t got a clue.**
Blind leadin’ the blind tellin’ me what to do.
I hit every goal, finish every report,
But you still want more, yeah, you still want more.
“Keep your foot on the gas,” that’s all you ever say—
While I’m breakin’ my back just to make it through the day.
Dear management…
F* you.**
I mean it in the nicest way.
⸻
[Bridge]
One day I’ll walk out, won’t even pack my things,
Leave my badge on the table, let freedom ring.
Find a life worth livin’, find a job that’s true—
One where hard work means somethin’,
Not whatever this is with you.
⸻
[Final Chorus]
Dear management, F* you,
This song’s overdue.**
I speak for every man who’s been pushed right through.
We hit every mark, we give everything,
But you don’t hear nothin’ but the cash register ding.
You can “keep your gas pedal,” I’ll keep my soul—
’Cause I’m done with your burnout, done playin’ this role.
Dear management…
F* you.**
And that’s the working man truth.
