Woke up, my face leaking like Snowden,
Mayhap to work you shouldn't go then,
Nah, blood, my fams you know it needs it tha chedda,
But you keep working deez hours you ain't never gettin betta.
It's a'ight, my modem it pulls 20 megs,
And I gots a chill boss, no need to hafta beg,
Workin from home with my head in a fog,
At least it ain't stomach flu as I'm still droppin solid logs.
Sittin at my desk, my voice hoarse like Secretariat,
Head 3 sizes too big, but like the Grinch I can carry it,
Flash't the ID, got me Pseudoephedrine on lockdown,
Bed's just over there if I feels I havesta lie down,
Eyedrops and tissues, yo, man you get wit this?
For the sore throat I gots halls mentho-lyptus.
Time to clock in, you know it's all about the product,
Gots to produce tho I feel I bin rolled by a Mack truck,
Still gots the needs, an a grip a kids to feed,
Let me sign off now, I gots emails ta read.
Yes the weather and what it brings can be a blessing and a curse. That's what
You said, right?