Rehab - Sixteen Tons (Company Store) lyrics
[Rehab - Sixteen Tons Company Store lyrics]
This business is all lies
Don't believe anything you read
Don't believe anything you're told or
Overhear odds are it's
Lies hype or ignorance or some
Devilish fucking cocktail of
All three most people in this
Business love to talk about
How they do things what they use
And why their so groundbreaking
Except that is the true ground breakers
That seem to be so
Fucking busy breaking ground they don't
Have time to do anything
But fucking work this business is
A creul shallow money trench
A long plastic hallway where thieves
And pimps run free
And good men Die like dogs
There are allhethere's also a negative side
I will notsell you mysoul
6 in the morning and I'm dying in bed
The sun ain't even up and there goes my head
Yelling at the top of my
Lungs "Where my meds"
You got to get to work shut
The fuck up and head
Into the office looking tired as hell
Acted up again spent the weekend in jail
Took two days for dad to make bail
Maybe I should have chilled on the last rail
I called my boss about a check of mine
He said " The money right now
Is caught in the pipeline"
I know somebody getting paid when I rhyme
But it sure ain't me I'm
Late for the last time
Walked outside and my car is gone
Had some weed in it to they repo'd my bong
Standing in the parking lot singing this song
Either I'm dead broke or
Either I'm dead wrong
Some people say a man is made out of mud
A poor man's made out of muscle and blood
Muscle and blood and skin and bones
A mind that's weak and a back that's strong
You load sixteen tons what do you get
Another day older and deeper in debt
Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause
I can't go
I owe my soul to the company store
I drink my early morning cup of
Coffee lace up my work boots
Daddy said "A little work ain't
Never hurt nobody boy"
But everyday's the same thing
Working 90 degree heat
Reminds me of the chain-gang
Digging holes just to fill 'em up again
Guess what it's all for
That all mighty dollar
No paid vacation in some remote location
Same lame vocation same radiostations
In this rusty dusty dump truck
Hearing songs about things that
Don't matter to me
What about the bricklayers What
About the roofers
And framers, the no namers
Ditch diggers and peach pickers
Two jobbing single mom in Macon
Making 5 and quater
Plus tips that's dog tired taking your order
Cuz some lame ass dude popping
Pills can't support her
And today I gotta go pour
Four more slabs of morar
Some people say a man is made out of mud
A poor man's made out of muscle and blood
Muscle and blood and skin and bones
A mind that's weak and a back that's strong
You load sixteen tons what do you get
Another day older and deeper in debt
Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause
I can't go
I owe my soul to the company store
Whoa whoa Hold the bus up let me get up in
Looking like I'm late again ever
Since the day begin
Hitting the snooze button thinking
I won't lose nothing
Just a minute more to snore
Before the days coming
What I really feel is the day the chill
Working 7 days just to pay the bills
Can i get a minute I been
In here working my bones
And every second I get I
Be thinking bout home
I don't know why we even try to do this
It just seems to get so monatonious
So damn pointless Im just tired of it
Working everyday man fuck it I quit
Give me a hell yeah hell yeah hell yeah
Oh and if you wanna see me drag his coffin
Out into a field and set it ablaze
Give me one more hell yeah
Some people say a man is made out of mud
A poor man's made out of muscle and blood
Muscle and blood and skin and bones
A mind that's weak and a back that's strong
You load sixteen tons what do you get
Another day older and deeper in debt
Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause
I can't go
I owe my soul to the company store
Some people say a man is made out of mud
A poor man's made out of muscle and blood
Muscle and blood and skin and bones
A mind that's weak and a back that's strong
You load sixteen tons what do you get
Another day older and deeper in debt
Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause
I can't go
I owe my soul to the company store
Don't believe anything you read
Don't believe anything you're told or
Overhear odds are it's
Lies hype or ignorance or some
Devilish fucking cocktail of
All three most people in this
Business love to talk about
How they do things what they use
And why their so groundbreaking
Except that is the true ground breakers
That seem to be so
Fucking busy breaking ground they don't
Have time to do anything
But fucking work this business is
A creul shallow money trench
A long plastic hallway where thieves
And pimps run free
And good men Die like dogs
There are allhethere's also a negative side
I will notsell you mysoul
6 in the morning and I'm dying in bed
The sun ain't even up and there goes my head
Yelling at the top of my
Lungs "Where my meds"
You got to get to work shut
The fuck up and head
Into the office looking tired as hell
Acted up again spent the weekend in jail
Took two days for dad to make bail
Maybe I should have chilled on the last rail
I called my boss about a check of mine
He said " The money right now
Is caught in the pipeline"
I know somebody getting paid when I rhyme
But it sure ain't me I'm
Late for the last time
Walked outside and my car is gone
Had some weed in it to they repo'd my bong
Standing in the parking lot singing this song
Either I'm dead broke or
Either I'm dead wrong
Some people say a man is made out of mud
A poor man's made out of muscle and blood
Muscle and blood and skin and bones
A mind that's weak and a back that's strong
You load sixteen tons what do you get
Another day older and deeper in debt
Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause
I can't go
I owe my soul to the company store
I drink my early morning cup of
Coffee lace up my work boots
Daddy said "A little work ain't
Never hurt nobody boy"
But everyday's the same thing
Working 90 degree heat
Reminds me of the chain-gang
Digging holes just to fill 'em up again
Guess what it's all for
That all mighty dollar
No paid vacation in some remote location
Same lame vocation same radiostations
In this rusty dusty dump truck
Hearing songs about things that
Don't matter to me
What about the bricklayers What
About the roofers
And framers, the no namers
Ditch diggers and peach pickers
Two jobbing single mom in Macon
Making 5 and quater
Plus tips that's dog tired taking your order
Cuz some lame ass dude popping
Pills can't support her
And today I gotta go pour
Four more slabs of morar
Some people say a man is made out of mud
A poor man's made out of muscle and blood
Muscle and blood and skin and bones
A mind that's weak and a back that's strong
You load sixteen tons what do you get
Another day older and deeper in debt
Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause
I can't go
I owe my soul to the company store
Whoa whoa Hold the bus up let me get up in
Looking like I'm late again ever
Since the day begin
Hitting the snooze button thinking
I won't lose nothing
Just a minute more to snore
Before the days coming
What I really feel is the day the chill
Working 7 days just to pay the bills
Can i get a minute I been
In here working my bones
And every second I get I
Be thinking bout home
I don't know why we even try to do this
It just seems to get so monatonious
So damn pointless Im just tired of it
Working everyday man fuck it I quit
Give me a hell yeah hell yeah hell yeah
Oh and if you wanna see me drag his coffin
Out into a field and set it ablaze
Give me one more hell yeah
Some people say a man is made out of mud
A poor man's made out of muscle and blood
Muscle and blood and skin and bones
A mind that's weak and a back that's strong
You load sixteen tons what do you get
Another day older and deeper in debt
Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause
I can't go
I owe my soul to the company store
Some people say a man is made out of mud
A poor man's made out of muscle and blood
Muscle and blood and skin and bones
A mind that's weak and a back that's strong
You load sixteen tons what do you get
Another day older and deeper in debt
Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause
I can't go
I owe my soul to the company store