HOOK Palms up, read the damage, not the luck Every line's from a grip that would never give up Hands cracked from the carry, never once passed the cup What I want, I go get it, and I get it with these knuck les to the ground when it's ugly, when it's rough Two hands built it all, and them two hands is enough VERSE 1 They handed me nothing, so my hands went to war Went to war with the morning, kicked the sheets to the floor To the floor for the pushups, to the door for the chase To the place where they told me there was never any space Made a space with my shoulders, made a way with my wrists Made a name off the days I was clenching my fists And my fists left their history all over my skin Every groove in my palm is a place that I've been Where I've been ain't pretty, gravel, grease, and the grind Hands deep in a problem while the clock robbed me blind But I never watched the clock, I just fed it my hours Traded soft for the sting, traded sting for the power And the power's in the pattern that runs through my grip Deep cuts like a canyon from the ropes and the bricks From the drills and the sockets, from the rust and the splinters From holding myself up through a decade of winters Cold made me colder, but my hands stayed hot Kept twisting, kept turning every screw in the plot Every knot that they threw me, my fingers untied it Every ceiling that they built, these palms flattened and pried it And I pried it with pride 'cause I owed myself that Owed my younger self proof he wasn't dreaming through cracks So I stacked every effort like a pallet on my spine Till the lines in my hands looked exactly like mine Exactly like mine, not a copy, not a loan Every ridge is a mile that I walked on my own On my own with a toolbox, on my own with the ache Popping blisters before breakfast, going numb by the eighth By the eighth hour in, I forget what soft is Palm's a slab of old leather from a thousand hard losses But the losses paid the tuition, and the lessons went in Every scar's a diploma written into my skin Into my skin, deeper than any tattoo could go Ink fades in the sun, my lines only grow They grow when I pull, they grow when I press They grow every time I refuse to take less So miss me with the pity and miss me with the maybes My hands never begged and they never went lazy Ten fingers, two palms, one spine that won't bend Whatever's in front of me, these hands are the end HOOK Palms up, read the damage, not the luck Every line's from a grip that would never give up Hands cracked from the carry, never once passed the cup What I want, I go get it, and I get it with these knuck les to the ground when it's ugly, when it's rough Two hands built it all, and them two hands is enough
