Glass Ceiling Grind скачать в хорошем качестве

Glass Ceiling Grind

Clock-in at five when the sky is still charcoal gray Steel toes heavy but I’m leading the way I’ve got the blueprints folded in my denim pocket Ignition sequence, I’m a human-made rocket They look at my hands like they shouldn’t be stained Like a woman in the dirt is a secret to be explained I swallow the comments, the whispers, the 'honey' While I’m doing double work for half of their money I lug the heavy beams while they’re leaning on the truck They say I’m only here by a stroke of pure luck But luck didn’t build the bridge or weld the iron tight I’m the first one on the site and the last one in the light. I’m out-working the giants, I’m out-pacing the pride With a fire in my chest that they can’t push aside Broken glass on the floor of the corporate tower I’m the grit in the gears, I’m the midnight power Yeah, they pay me less but I weigh much more Leaving sweat and my blood on this factory floor. Lunch break hits and I sit on the stack Counting every cent that they’re holding back Rent’s going up while my wage stays still But they can’t find a man with half of my skill I see the foreman smirk when I pick up the torch While his favorites are cooling on the front office porch I’ve got to be perfect, I can’t make a slip Or they’ll blame my whole gender for a losing grip So I tighten the bolt and I sharpen the blade Best work in the city that was ever displayed It’s a cold world, darling, in a hard-hat zone Building empires for kings on a splintered throne. I’m out-working the giants, I’m out-pacing the pride With a fire in my chest that they can’t push aside Broken glass on the floor of the corporate tower I’m the grit in the gears, I’m the midnight power Yeah, they pay me less but I weigh much more Leaving sweat and my blood on this factory floor. Sixty minutes in an hour, I give them seventy-five Just to prove to the room that I’m more than alive I don’t want a hand-out, I don’t want a pass Just give me the hammer and I’ll shatter the glass Check the stats, check the speed, check the quality line There ain’t a signature here that is cleaner than mine. Sun goes down and the whistle finally blows Back to the house where the laundry pile grows No rest for the weary, no rest for the brave Just another day digging out the path I pave Tomorrow at five, I’ll be back at the gate Turning my hustle into something they hate Yeah, something they hate.