[Intro] WHIIIIITESIIIIIDE! Steel-town manners. Let’s work. [Verse 1] Clock-in at dawn with the lunch pail clanging, Grease on the cuff, got the whole shift hanging. You talk big numbers; I talk load-bearing, Every bar got a bolt and a code worth sharing. I learned my math where the old press shakes, Counted every wrong turn by the parts it takes. You rent that tough talk; I own my mistakes, Welded a spine from the heat that it makes. [Verse 2] BAR NONE! I bend phrases, never bend steel, Put a hinge in a line, now the whole room swivels. Double meaning, double shift, still sharp when I deal, Your punchline’s a lunch break—mine’s a full meal. I’m a craftsman with language, the grain runs tight, Each syllable fitted till the seams sit right. You’re a showroom model with a rental bite, I’m the shop-floor original, built for the fight. [Hook] Steel town, stand firm, let the whole crew know, Hands worn rough but the wordplay’s gold. No borrowed shine, no shortcuts sold, RUN IT! Built from the ground, still cold. [Verse 3] Now I’m stacking the consonants, packing the pattern, Ratcheting cadence till brackets start rattling. You’re chasing a crown with a plastic-clad handle, I forged mine in overtime, sparks in the flannel. I lay tracks like a rail crew, straight through the gravel, Then switch up the pocket and make your feet travel. A metaphor’s a wrench: I turn what you babble, One twist and your whole little argument unravels. [Verse 4] WHIIIIITESIIIIIDE! I’m dry wit with a live wire grin, A blue-collar chess move—check from within. You swing at the title; I clock you for spin, I’m the foreman of flow, let the shift begin. No rage in the voice, just a smirk in the meter, I leave room after impact so the point lands deeper. Your résumé’s glossy; my receipts run cleaner, BAR NONE! Shop-floor king, still a rhyme-line schemer. [Outro] STEEL TOWN! Built to hold. Built to last. RUN IT!
