The ones born in shit 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 class 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