The ones born in sh** with no remorse or no regret
Watch the foundation break we laugh as we take
Born the son of a carpenter and highschool secretary
Bread blue collar in a white trash town, with just enough to lose
But I learned the value in wanting nothing
Because then no one can take anything from you
I watched the heart of my old man get overworked for the sake of a dollar
Worried that love might only, be found
In the amount of things you leave behind when you die
I started driving nails at an early age
For a cla** of people their god forgot
For the ingrates who never knew the pain of callous hands
For the bottom feeder waiting for their hand out
This is humanities true face, middle aged
And fully capable but not willing to sweat
Who think they are better than that
As if born with some form of entitlement
The punch line in this joke, we are angels at birth
But true sinners and always looking for a hustle
I was born a fortunate son
But I learned early on if you want to live, you got to suffer
You got to be willing to bleed
I was born a fortunate son
But I learned early on if you want to live, you got to suffer
You got to be willing to die. (Empty handed)
I go day to day with a chip on my shoulder
I can not shake for a generation of leaches
Who seem to think that life owes them something more than a right to breathe
Life owes me nothing but a cold deep grave
And a promise to never wake me up when I close my eyes
Let me close my eyes. Please let me close my eyes