Pretty Average Dude

Lyrics

[INTRO — spoken, completely serious] Yo. People always ask me, “What's your story?” And I'm like… I don't know, man. I got a job. I got a phone. I got a coupon for some chicken wings. I guess I'm doing alright. [VERSE 1] I wake up in the morning, hit snooze about six times, Brush my teeth for thirty seconds, now my breath is doing fine. Got a shirt with a stain that I can't identify, Could be ketchup, could be mustard, could be something that was alive. I drive a regular car, got a regular commute, There's a weird noise in the engine, but I turn up the beat. Got a check-engine light that's been on since July, If the car still starts in winter, then the car and I are fine. I don't do CrossFit, I don't run marathons, I get winded changing channels when the remote is gone. I eat vegetables occasionally, usually by mistake, Found a piece of lettuce in my burger, and accidentally ate it by mistake. I'm not a millionaire, I'm not a ladies' man, I bought a five-dollar scratch-off for a retirement plan. Didn't win a single dollar, but I learned something profound: The government gets my money, and a cartoon fish let me down. [HOOK — confident, almost inspirational] I'm a pretty average dude, yeah, I'm doing okay, I got bills on the table that I'd rather not pay. Got a fridge full of condiments and nothing to eat, Got a favorite pair of sandals with a hole in the feet. [verse 2] I'm not a superhero, I'm not changing the world, I got three unread emails and a blanket that's curled. You can keep your private jets, your mansion, and your yacht— I got a coupon for Taco Bell that expires next week. I once assembled furniture without reading the guide, Had seventeen extra screws and a shelf that would slide. Now the bookshelf wobbles like its got epilepsy, And the coffee table wobbles every time I watch the news. I got a gym membership I haven't used since May, But they keep charging me, so technically I pay to stay away. Got a water bottle somewhere that I bought to get in shape, Now it sits beside my bed holding loose change. I know a little about cars, mostly how to add gas, And how to make that awful grinding noise somebody else's task. If a mechanic says it's serious, I just stare into his eyes, Then ask him if there's a cheaper way to make the problem die. I got opinions on the weather, got opinions on the news, Got opinions on the neighbor who keeps wearing my shoes— Well, they're not actually mine, but they're identical in size, And he waved at me this morning with a suspicious little smile. I don't have beef with anybody, I don't want no smoke, Unless somebody eats my leftovers, then the peace treaty's revoked. You can disrespect my haircut, you can insult my attire, But touch my labeled Tupperware and we're taking this higher— [BEAT CUT — whispering intensely] —management. [HOOK — confident, almost inspirational] I'm a pretty average dude, yeah, I'm doing okay, I got bills on the table that I'd rather not pay. Got a fridge full of condiments and nothing to eat, Got a favorite pair of sandals with a hole in the feet. [OUTRO — spoken, beat fading out] So yeah. That's me. No private island. No sports car. No underground bunker. Just a guy trying to get through the week. Actually, I do have a bunker. It's my garage. There's a lawn mower in there that hasn't worked since 2019. And I'm pretty sure something's living in the old cooler. But that's a problem for next weekend. I'm busy. I'm watching TV.