[Intro] One deep breath, focus sharp as glass, Mic in hand, heartbeat finds the tempo. [Verse 1] “Looks like you’ve got it easy,” the boss jokes from his swivel chair, Says I’ll “never grow” stuck here—funny how his vision stops at the wall. Happy-hour scorecard? Pass on the second round and you’re “not a team player.” If respect hinges on cocktails and small talk, we’ve got different currencies. Minor frictions stacking like static on a wool coat, Every “your plan’s full of holes” chisels my craft a shade cleaner. [Pre-Hook] I sort each word on the scale of reason, Wrap raw heat in cool logic, let it simmer. [Hook] **Screw that**—I drop the line and move, Stride reset, eyes on the next decision. Sweet or bitter, I’ll taste it and own it. [Verse 2] Truth is, I’m not bullet-proof either. Half-done notes, **sloppy reports**—moments I let the edge dull. Fear clamps the brakes, panic spins the wheels, Yet every slip posts profit in the knowledge ledger. Clock my pulse like a metronome, sync the drift, Re-gear the workflow, torque feeds the drive shaft. [Bridge] Rebellion is fuel, but only harnessed fire moves a turbine. Scars mark progress, sweat records minutes, The “wasted” attempts draft tomorrow’s blueprint. [Hook] **Screw that**—distill the verdict to one bar, Pave the road I choose with my own pledge. Every flavor—heat, bite, or sugar—is mine to swallow. [Verse 3] Opinions scroll past like ads in a feed; swipe and they’re gone. I push the code, quiet release, version up. **Limits don’t make the spec sheet**; undefined space equals growth margin. “Not thorough,” he said—thanks for spotlighting the grindstone. Sharpening in silence isn’t drift, it’s trajectory; Sparks may be muted, but they still light the horizon. [Hook] **Screw that**—echoes ride the hush, Keys clack, another line committed. **I set the palette, taste what I create.** [Outro] Tailwind, headwind, both spin the same propeller. Low hum, constant thrust. **Screw that**—last word dropped, I keep advancing.
