[Hook x2] I ain't a real man, real men work Digging, digging, shoveling dirt The kind of work, that when you get home you're back hurt Blood stains cover your shirt, that's real work [Verse 1] Rapping and ryhming, that it isn't grinding What's grinding, the cats that were strapped In the mine when the mine cap sized over top of them And cats couldn't 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 bachelor's or a docto- Rate, pop'll get the opposite Fire in the hole Never had a silver spoon so he