album cover
Hold That
6
Hip-Hop/Rap
Hold That was released on January 29, 2024 by Cymple Man Music Group as a part of the album The Grindstone
album cover
Release DateJanuary 29, 2024
LabelCymple Man Music Group
LanguageEnglish
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM86

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Cymple Man
Cymple Man
Performer
Hitman
Hitman
Performer

Lyrics

Oh, no, fuck up
We'll snooze that alarm clock
We kick the roost in the ass, tell him what to flock
We just have hard work in
(Lower, middle, lower, lower class)
Skipped over for promotion, we ain't kissing no one's ass
Coming in hungover and running late, maybe you had a close shave
When that cutting tool slipped and got your throat grazed
I'm rolling one up in the work truck in the shade
But I'm also waiting because even if it's broke
You about to bake that sauce on my way
It's too early in the day to leave the job site
And the only work must help you got is get your mind right
We paid hourly, can't complain but ain't cowardly
And we don't half-ass a thing, and that's just how it was
Knuckles and bearing grease
Hard work, that's my therapy
Maybe this is all I ever be
How's that for a moment of clarity
But baby, we just tell the whole flats
Keep your sauce, we gonna try rub the whole rack
Put that e-brake on, let it roll back
Running down to my home, yeah, hold that (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Yeah, hold that
The boss yelling you're fired before you hit the ground (you're fired, ah-ah-ah)
But he don't know I've been high, and I ain't gonna tell him now
The sun's beaming down while I'm on these rafters
The new kid down there doing shit ass backwards
I ain't taking no shit, it's way too hot (nah, whoa)
Party meeting working beans in his old lunchbox
Gotta wake up at five just to leave by six
I already pissed off, so I'ma show up and get it
Couldn't find no socks, ripped a hole in my jeans
Lost my wallet to the washer, at least it's 20, it's clean
But I'ma use it in gas, can't even buy no city (yeah)
So I'ma bomb in the sun while they talk mad shit
Oh well, that's the life, we're living in lower class
Pen all on my check, on water, power, and gas
We wear it on front, so what do I gotta do?
Smoke roaches out the ashtray, so I don't lose my cool
Knuckles and bearing grease
Hard work, that's my therapy
Maybe this is all I ever be
How's that for a moment of clarity
But baby, we just tell the whole flats
Keep your sauce, we gonna try rub the whole rack
Put that e-brake on, let it roll back
Running down to my home, yeah, hold that (yeah)
Yeah, hold that
This is a man spitting for the simple man getting sweaty
Rebuilding the transmission in the shop with no fans spinning
And all these hustling women with that fire in their hearts
Whether you're baking cakes or fabricating bike parts
We are the heartbeat of the globe the road pavers
The excavators, the one replacing the motors in y'all overpriced
Refrigerators CB communicators, pesticide fumigators
Debt accumulating neighbors household renovators
Yeah, we the silent majority, monetary minority
People of poverty with problems with authority
We done lost faith in you Uncle Sam
When you started shoveling our taxes to them foreign lands
We understand help your fellow man, we want to be the good guys
But you paying countries just to stay on the good side
So look guy that's weak shit
And I suggest you want the peace kept and leave us all alone
For you step off in a big, let me know
Knuckles and bearing grease
Hard work, that's my therapy
Maybe this is all I ever be
How's that for a moment of clarity
But baby, we just tell the whole flats
Keep your sauce, we gonna try rub the whole rack
Put that e-brake on, let it roll back
Running down to my home, yeah, hold that
Yeah, hold that
Oh, yeah
Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah
Oh, yeah
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