I'm prepin' up for the days dessertin'
Fittin' for a king
I'm waitin' for the time when I can
Get to dinner service
'Cause my money is spent on
The goddamn rent
Neither prep list is mine not the
larder or the fish section
20.000 bookey bookey bookings in the dining room
Of the cell phone but they come
From melbourne town.
Special dishes are one with the pheasant and crumb
Wit' a knife,
chef Runnin' staff under his thumb
Cookin' hard a' la carte, but
Isn't it odd and unique?
Seein' kitchen staff wild in the heat
120 degree
'Cause I wanna be free
What's a smilin' dishie
When the whole team's racist
Why want a holiday, f**k it 'cause I wanna
So what if I celebrate it drinkin' in my loungeroom
I ain't drinkin' no 40
I B drinkin' patron wit' a lime
Until we get some grams
Call me the cookin man
Looki lookin' for the manager
Huh he ain't lovin' ya
But here to trouble ya
He's rubbin' ya wrong
Get the joint, come along
An he can get to the point
I urinated on the bar
While I was kickin' this song
Yeah, he appear to be fair
The customer over there
He try to keep it yesteryear
The good ol' days
The same ol' ways
That kept us cookin'
Yes, chef, me myself and I'ndeed
What he need is a nosebleed
Read between the lines
Then you see the lie
selfishly planned
But understand that's all they tipped
When we see the real side
That hide behind the bar
They can't understand why he the chef
I'm singin' 'bout a steak
They don't like it
When I decide to grill it
Wait I'm waitin' for the date
For the chef who demands respect
'Cause he was great c'mon
I'm on the one mission
To ignore all nutrition
we's a gonner
By the time I get to dinner service