I'm Not Lovin' It

Intro

Ayy, lights on the lot, skrrt, (skrrt) ayy

Drop the tray, listen up, listen up

Verse

You sold a smile for a paper cup, (yeah) flip the lid, the truth spills up

Golden arches lookin' like a funnel for the fluff, the stuff they cut

Big box, bigger profit, tiny truth tucked in a wrapper — hush

Frozen hearts on a grill press, reheated lies under fluorescent dust

You feed a craving with a name and a game, (ayy) toy in the box, who’s amused?

Kids trade stories for sugared storms, adults trade health for coupons, used

Drive-thru confessions at midnight, order number twelve, same excuse

Soggy fries, recycled dreams, man, what do you choose? (choose)

Secret sauce? Nah, secret cost — a ledger kissing margins, no remorse

You rent the smiles, they clock the miles, clock out pain at the front porch

Value menu, priceless dreams; they gamble weight, they stack the board

Marketing plays like a choir, but the religion’s on the register, lord

I saw a stack of receipts reach higher than the pride they tuck inside

And the CEO’s handshake tastes like corporate mint and a side of lies

You built a kingdom on quick heat, quick eats, and quick goodbyes

We worship convenience, you harvest crumbs while the planet sighs

I spit receipts, not just beats, spotlight on the grease and the guise

Count your burgers like a drumroll, I count consequences in the rise

(count it, count it) (ayy) give me truth, not the plush disguise

Chorus

I'm not lovin' it, I'm not lovin' it, I'm not lovin' it, I'm not lovin' it

I'm not lovin' it, I'm not lovin' it, I'm not lovin' it, I'm not lovin' it

Verse

Employee lines like constellations, promise planets, deliver dust

You hand out smiles like single-use cups and call that trust

Minimum wage, maximum hustle — clock in, forget your rust

Playplace laughter, playground silence where the futures get discussed

I watched a mother count change by the lamplight, quarter, dime, hush

Bought two sandwiches for a night and a mortgage for her yesterdreams

You sell nostalgia in a cardboard box while ignoring the seams

Happy meals with plastic planets orbiting the nutritional extremes

Boardroom to backroom, the scripts flip language into streamlined schemes

Once we sang to the arch, now we trace the cracks inside the beams

Big Mac? Big con. Supersize the consequence, supersize the themes

You package worry, sell it hot, call it comfort, call it clean

But those wrappers fold like promises, brittle under heat and steam

Franchise flags wave while the fields and the wages shrink, unseen

You put a mascot on the menu and a lawyer at the seam

Spin the golden logo, spin the lore, spin the dream to a meme

But people taste it, feel the hollowness; taste buds scream, it’s obscene

So I lace the verse with a wake-up, tear the gloss from the screen

(aye) You think you’re lovin’ it, nah — we check the tray, we read between

Bridge

Arches don't crown yo