[INTRO — Spoken, cold and direct] Yeah… Scrappy-Dee. BG, Kentucky… SDE! You fired the man who kept your building running? The one fixing what your people kept breaking? Now you wanna act like I never meant a damn thing? Well, listen up… FUCK ’EM! (Background whispers: “Money… money… money…”) (Whisper: “Who’s gonna fix it now?”) [HOOK — Heavy 808 DROP] FUCK ’EM! — I ain’t begging for a place! FUCK ’EM! — You can look me in my face! I was fixing your problems while you counted up the cash, Now the best maintenance man you had is gone in a flash! FUCK ’EM! — Let the truth hit the fan! You lost a hard worker, now go find another man! You messed with a child of God, thought you’d bury what I knew, Now my songs and books gonna tell my point of view! (Background vocals: “Tell the truth! Tell the truth!”) (Whispers: “Fuck ’em… fuck ’em… SDE!”) [VERSE 1 — Raw, aggressive Southern flow] I came to do a job, put my hands to the grind, Fixing broken-down shit, keeping everything in line. Leaky pipes, busted doors, whatever needed repair, While the people making big decisions acted like they didn’t care. I’m talking nursing home business, where the residents live, These are human beings, not just numbers on a list. If you’re counting every dollar while the people go without, Then somebody needs to stand up and start calling that shit out! I watched how things were running, had some things I had to say, But speaking up can cost a working man his paycheck any day. You can take away my job, but you can’t erase my voice, I got fired from the building, but I’m making my own choice! I ain’t claiming I’m perfect, I got flaws like any man, But I know what I believe in, and I stand for what I can. You can shut the maintenance door, put my name outside, But you can’t fire the truth just because it hurts your pride! [PRE-HOOK — Beat strips down] (Whisper: “Who keeps it running?”) Me! (Whisper: “Who gets the blame?”) Me! (Whisper: “Who counts the money?”) THEM! Now the whole damn situation ain’t never gonna be the same! [HOOK — FULL BEAT, DOUBLE TRACKED VOCALS] FUCK ’EM! — I ain’t begging for a place! FUCK ’EM! — You can look me in my face! I was fixing your problems while you counted up the cash, Now the best maintenance man you had is gone in a flash! FUCK ’EM! — Let the truth hit the fan! You lost a hard worker, now go find another man! You messed with a child of God, thought you’d bury what I knew, Now my songs and books gonna tell my point of view! [VERSE 2 — Faster flow, sharper delivery] Now you’re looking for somebody who can do what I did, Somebody with the knowledge, somebody willing to give. You can post another job, put another name on the door, But if the same shit keeps happening, what you hiring for? And don’t give me that speech about the business being tough, When the ones who need the care are the ones getting the rough end of the stuff. Good workers get exhausted, bad habits carry on, Then you wonder why the good ones keep packing up and moving on! I’m talking about accountability, I’m talking doing right, Not just polishing the lobby when the numbers looking bright. The residents deserve respect, deserve a safe place to stay, They shouldn’t pay the price when management looks the other way. And if employees aren’t doing what the residents need, Then address that situation—don’t let bad standards breed. Keep the shit employees? Then explain it to the crew, Because a building’s only solid as the people running through! (Ad-libs: “Come on!” “Do your job!” “SDE!”) [BRIDGE — Dark piano, spoken-word delivery] You thought firing me would make the problem disappear. No. A termination can end a job. It can’t end a person’s story. I’m a child of God. I believe I’m chosen for a purpose. And I got a whole lot left to say. Through my songs… Through my books… Through every chapter of my life… I’m putting my experiences into words. (Whisper grows louder: “The truth… the truth… the truth…”) (Beat silence.) [VERSE 3 — Scrappy-Dee’s comeback] I turned a closed door to a microphone stand, Turned the pain of getting fired into power in my hands. You can take away a paycheck, can’t take away the pen, I’m Scrappy-Dee, and I’m writing my own chapter again! From Bowling Green streets to the stories that I write, I’m bringing every lesson from the darkness to the light. I don’t need your permission, don’t need your approval, I’m building SDE, turning setbacks into movement! If I name a problem, I can speak on what I saw, But the facts stay solid—that’s the difference, that’s the law. No made-up accusations, let the evidence appear, If the truth is on the record, you got nothing left to fear. I gave you my labor, gave you time, gave you skill, Now I’m building something bigger with a God-given will. You can call it retaliation, you can say that I’m mad, But I’m turning this experience into something that I have! [FINAL HOOK — Beat Switch, Maximum Bass] FUCK ’EM! — I’ma rise up from the fall!
