Dec 12, 2012

Blue Collar Soul Song 1: Mucho Trabajo

Mucho Trabajo.. Poco Dinero..

These where the first words i learned
when i started working as a messenger in the city
somewhere tucked away in the basement
of a lower Manhattan bank building on Wall street
right across from the twin towers.
 My job was to sort outand deliver packages
on the different floors of the building.
Me and my co-messengers
where made to made to wear these dress pants and shirts
and ties with the windsor knot youknow,
and over that we had these gray coats
to either recognize us by
or as we often speculated
make us look even more ridiculous than we felt.
The hole thing made us feel like slaves,
and you couldn't really tell us other wise
by the time we got our wages.

This is a working's mans world..
and NY is a working mans city..
coming up i found there's a whole culture
of working class people from all walks of life
that connect thru work..

everybody doesnt have to like everybody..
but everybody needs one another..
to get things done..

degrees only go but so far when you dealin' with people
really.. what counts is how you treat people

I write about my reality
so i wrote about my working experiences,
about losing my moms
and the going ons in the world
and the life of me as an everyday working man

i called the album blue collar soul
cause thats where i hail from
from the ranks of the masses of the working classes

So here goes the lyrics Song 1:"Blue Collar Soul."

still dark outside 6.30 in the morning
on the bus packed stale breath passengers yawning
transfer to the iron worm to the plantation
proletariat of the new roman nation
sittin in a two by two cubicle illegal to
Do what you wanna do ,(what you gonna do?!) you
are not allowed to bathe in the sun as she shines
Treatin’ you like you guilty of some kinda crime
you close your eyes for a sec to feel the sun on your skin
Here come the overseer closing the blinds
you got no friends ,just co workers
Stuck in the same position,wishin’
all you talk about all day is what you would you do
if you’d win the lotto, and like you
if I ever get the chance to be out
I be out like a scout on a new route

Mucho travajo poco dinero
This is what they tell me papi get them cruzeiro
you don’t work you feel a rumble in yo tummy
Cause without money.. 1st time..aint a damn thing funny 2nd time haha..

at times I reflect on the laws of cause and effect
And cant help but detect flaws in respect
you can see it all the time people mess things up ( meryl lynch goldman sachs)
N Leavin others to clean it up get me fed up
like What the fuk nigga (ad lib)where is your manners
Some People act like other people don’t matter/I see
heads of families cleanin toilet bowls(fecal matter)
other peoples feces for a bank roll (yo its outta control) I met
this sweet soul emptyin garbage cans
Looked like she was struggling so I gave her a hand
her eyes looked up she softened her stare
seemed truly surprised to see that someone cared
some how the situation didn’t seem fair
we a great people so how we end up here
I asked her mami how we came to be this way
She said maybe baby you will see one day

Mucho travajo
Pocito dinero

things you seein’ on T.V. fukin' with your self esteem
You aint got shit to show all you got is your dreams
Some hard work all their life to give their fam what they needin’
This nigga wrote one song got rich over the weekend
That’s how it is you got no doe three kids
The rich spend money like water n get free shit
i remember thinking yo this aint me
Stuck cant flee Present day slavery
My homey said he tired of being pushed around like a broom
tired of bustin’ his ass n getting treated like a coon
said this here don’t change I’m goin back hustlin’
don’t look at him strange he a good man struggelin’
this man told me something I had trouble believing
While he was holdin down 3 jobs his woman was cheatin/the reason
he never home to give her what she needin
Now..That’s the typa shit that have a nigga catchin' feelins

Talkin to ya..

Nah.. every day life aint always easy
Keep your Integrity/politrix rule your city
I pray to most high for guidance and protection
Knowledge wisdom overstanding and direction
Holdin it down for the people in my section
Building on legacy destiny manifestin
out from the j.o. /nightshift begins
bass amp plug in people groovin’ /flip the beat/
Samurai flute production is pimp
Sak passé on percussion mc I am him
movin with fam in faith and persistence
Innersoul army goin the distance
recognize despite the stress we blessed
The righteous dont rest they give their best no less
And progress / yeah at times/I confess
feelin like a pawn /that’s why I practice my chess
Stick out my chest and make the damn thing happen Sing n
write a rhyme pluk a bass line what happen?!
i Work it like like the masses of the workin' classes
Jack of all trades specialize in movin' asses

Okai.. Sak Passé!!

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