[Intro] I aint a real man, real men work Digging, digging, shoveling dirt The kind of work, that when you get home, your back hurt Bloodstains cover your shirt, thats real work I aint a real man, real men work Digging, digging, shoveling dirt The kind of work, that when you get home your back hurt Bloodstains cover your shirt, thats real work [Verse 1] Rapping and rhyming, that isnt grinding Whats grinding, the cats that were trapped In the mine when the mine capsized over top of them And cats couldnt find them Little kids asking the firemen if dad was alive In the tragic environment that dad had a task to provide them with A little shelter and food to eat So he traveled deep in the sweltering grueling heat Moving his feet til he a mile below Knowing some workers died there a little while ago No es nada, people gotta do what they gotta A man gets a little but The Man gets a lotta Nothing proper, never got an opportunity To get a bachelors or a docto Rate, popll get the opposite Fire in the hole Never had a silver spoon so hes mining for the gold And eventually, it gets to a designer and its sold And its worn around the neck of someone rhyming and were told That they got that shit grinding I dont get that The dudes grinding climbed in with a pickaxe And I aint hating if you spit raps Im just saying I admit facts [Hook] I aint a real man, real men work Digging, digging, shoveling dirt The kind of work, that when you get home, your back hurt Bloodstains cover your shirt, thats real work I aint a real man, real men work Digging, digging, shoveling dirt The kind of work, that when you get home your back hurt Bloodstains cover your shirt, thats real work [Verse 2] Backstage I feel nervousness Hoping that the show reach perfectness But it feels kind of purposeless When I think of motherfuckers in the armed services And man it aint even right That what they make in a month, Ima make it tonight And when they come home, they gon wake up late in the night What they saw, aint no shaking the sight I mean stage frights something I can deal with A grenade fight fucker thats some real shit They say the stage lights bright but its actually kinda dark When its placed next to your newly missing body part Or the bullet that hit your friend and stopped his heart Youre eighteen, your lifes about to start But some come home, people like Who are you, man? Some come home and they wife got a new man Some come home and they life fall into shambles Now theyre just trying to keep a soup can full You can see em up in any town Uncle Sam dont pay per diem in the later rounds He got a cardboard box sign Iraq Vet in need of far more boxed wine With his family gone And some judgmental shit aint what your man be on Cause Ima still look at dude as a champion We get paid to chant these songs, its stupid [Hook] I aint a real man, real men work Digging, digging, shoveling dirt The kind of work, that when you get home, your back hurt Bloodstains cover your shirt, thats real work I aint a real man, real men work Digging, digging, shoveling dirt The kind of work, that when you get home your back hurt Bloodstains cover your shirt, thats real work [Verse 3] This is for my DC cats that would sell me a 20 sack And the migrant workers sending money back To the fat plumbers who invented plumbers crack Put your hands up, where you motherfuckers at Fuck a trucker hat, where the real truckers at At a rest stop cause they wanna take a fucking nap Electricians, dont get fucking zapped Nobody better than yall just because they rap To the people work at McDonalds Who wanna go to the corporate headquarters and smack Ronald Across his face, I hope that stupid ass company falls from grace Ayo, McFuck, the McRib They can, McSuck, my McDick, check it out McFuck, the McRib They can, McSuck, my McDick
digging, work, shoveling, bloodstain, real