Moral of the Story

And the moral of the story is

And the moral of the story is

Work, till your arms fall off

Till your abs get hard

And your bones all soft, just

(And the moral of the story is)

Work till your hands go numb

And they cramp, and the fans in the stands go star high

(And the moral of the story is)

I write till my fingers look like a bouquet of roses

You gotta bring yourself your flowers now in showbiz

Focus, it's quiet coyote, come on, let's go, kids

Everybody get together with a study buddy

Gonna talk about the fuck that I don't give

Because it's so big

And explosive

But a lot of people don't live

They don't ever get a motive

If you got a goal, you gotta hold on to what hope is

If I didn't have it, I would ask you where the rope is

Work is my church and so the studio's the closest

I spit it sick until my cootie flow's the grossest

Don't be so pissed, just be focused on your own shit

'Cause we supercalifornialistic sexy and we knows it

You're not my business

Go for number one, not a top five finish

You can have a chicken pot pie

But I'm thinking I'm gonna have another can of Popeye's spinach

I'm a Rottweiler, pop my collar when I pop my fur

You're on my nerves but mark my words

Gonna put a leg up and then mark my turf

Work (Work, work, work)

(Work, work, work, work)

And the moral of the story is

Work (Work, work, work)

(Work, work, work, work)

And the moral of the story is

Work till your arms fall off

Till your abs get hard

And your bones all soft, just

And the moral of the story is

Work till your hands go numb

And they cramp, and the fans in the stands go dumb

(And the moral of the story is)

Work until I'm black and yellow, black and yellow, worker bee

I just work until I'm black and blue and burgundy

Burgundy?

Work until I earn that rich mahogany

Honestly, can't you tell I'm working?

Bitch, don't bother me

Show some modesty if you're watching me

A bitch is anybody in my way, it's not misogyny

But if you're blocking me, I will soon defeat you

I will build a bridge above you or I'll tunnel underneath you

I will eat you and excrete you, and I'll feed you to the flowers

If I need to, I'll go through you and absorb your fucking powers

I put in hour after hour, let's be crystal clear

I'm gonna get there if it takes a day, or fifty years

I'll fingerbang my fears, I'll fucking punch a dragon

Even with the Himalayas in my way, it's gonna happen

'Cause waiting doesn't work and praying may not come through

And hoping doesn't work, so I will be the one to

Work (Work, work, work)

Work (Work, work, work)

And the moral of the story is

Work (Work, work, work)

(Work, work, work, work)

And the moral of the story is

Work till your arms fall off

Till your abs get hard

And your bones all soft, just

(And the moral of the story is)

Work till your hands go numb

And they cramp, and the fans in the stands go dumb

(And the moral of the story is)

And maybe someday, you might see me in a glossy photo

No weirdo's rocked the bells as hard as me since Quasimodo

And maybe someday, you might see me in a glossy photo

No weirdo's rocked the bells as hard as me since Quasimodo

No weirdo's rocked the bells as hard as me since Quasimodo