Oh, you’ve come to be roasted, to feel the heat’s glare, A legend in laziness, lost in thin air. Your inbox is bursting, your deadlines a joke, Procrastination’s your hobby, ambition up in smoke. You scroll and you swipe like a TikTok machine, Dreaming of fame with your "vast" daily routine. Ambitions so mighty they’re bound to the floor, You aim for the stars, but don't open the door. In the gym of good habits, you’re skipping each set, Champion of ‘Tomorrow,’ with zero regret. If excuses were gold, you’d be filthy rich, For dodging life’s hurdles without a hitch. You're king of complaints with solutions unseen, Master of visions that die on the screen. So wear this roast proudly, let every word sting— Just maybe, someday, you’ll get up and do something.
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