Lyric

I clock in at noon with a five-minute plan

Boss yells “grind harder,” I raise my coffee cup and—bam!

Spreadsheet stress? Nah, I flip it to a meme

Let the numbers nap while I’m plotting lucid dreams

They’re sprinting up the ladder, neckties in the wind;

I’m roller-skating sideways, still arriving first again

So I lean back, ride the breeze, let the game begin—

Every time I breathe, I somehow cash another win

While they sweat for gold, I’m collecting vitamin D;

Turns out chilling is the cheat-code nobody sees

“Work smart, not cardiac—remember that.”

Hustle guru’s tweeting “Rise & grind till it hurts,”

I reply with a selfie in my Hawaiian shirt

Notifications blow, but my heart rate stays low

‘Cause fame tastes better slow-cooked like Mom’s Sunday stove

They’re counting every minute like there’s interest to accrue;

I count the clouds—interestingly, I’m richer than the crew

Yeah, I lean back, ride the breeze, let the game begin—

Watch the scoreboard glitch when a slacker’s gonna win

All that chill you’re ignoring is an unclaimed prize;

Fortune loves the lazy with a sparkle in their eyes

Maybe life’s a marathon—but nobody said sprint;

If the view is epic, why not set up camp and tint?

I’m cashing checks in laughter, dividends in naps;

Success is just a hobby that sneaks in between the gaps

Let’s lean back, ride the breeze, call it discipline—

Crafting victories so chill they qualify as sin

Every “wasted” second is a secret power-up;

Slow-motion confetti when the laid-backs level up

“Take a breath… take the crown… same motion.”