Lyrics

Rinaldo walks in — the vibe goes black,
Wallet chained, heart made of plaque.
Cheap as hell, cries for days,
Stinks of rules and weak clichés.

Thinks he’s boss, but leads like dust,
Can’t buy respect, can’t earn trust.
He folds under pressure, sweats defeat,
A sad little man with cold, dead feet.

Fk you, Rinaldo — you're a walking curse,
I’d rather get fired or ride in a hearse.
Rather choke on ash than hear your whine,
You kill morale line by fking line.

Rinaldo saves cents like he's hoarding sin,
Sells out his team just to barely win.
Got no bark, no bite, no spine,
We’d all rather flatline than align.

He cries when it’s busy, he hides when it's rough,
Whines through the day like life’s too tough.
Your name on the rota? We’d rather die,
Set ourselves on fire than stand nearby.

Rinaldo the Rot — spineless worm,
Bleeds excuses, soft and infirm.
Fake authority, clown in a tie,
Even his shadow wants to say goodbye.

You kill the room, you suck the light,
You cry in the office every f**king night.
Leadership? You wouldn’t know,
You're the punchline of this whole damn show.

F**k you, Rinaldo — hear this loud,
We’d rather scream than join your crowd.
Drenched in fear, soaked in regret,
You’re the worst damn “boss” we’ve ever met.

Rinaldo, the curse, the workplace rot,
The one who gives the job all it’s not.
So cry your tears, make your rules —
We ain't your slaves. We ain't your fools.