Vs 1: When the clubs close out in the heart of Manhattan
And the never sleeping city settles down for a napping
Somebody's gotta empty all the heavy metal baskets
Separate the people from the sea of yellow traffic
Sweep the trash of the upper working cla**men
Scars from the broken champagne gla**es
Whatever happens he handles it pa**ive
Cause while we play the front he takes the rut on the backend
You barely see him cause he's not European
When something needs cleaning is the only time you need em
You don't wanna be him, his work is complicated
Your hands are to smooth to do a job so degrading
But he stays on his sh** no complaining
To you he's just another spick n***a but to me he's courageous
When you're working for a minimum wages
And never spend a moment aggravated he should be congratulated
Chs: New York City nights, bright lights pretty sights
Somebody's gotta keep it looking all pretty right
When the cities at a stand still they keep it moving
Its a f**ed up job but somebody gotta do it
Vs 2: You can find em in Asian, East and West Indian communities
African immigrants looking for unity
Say what you wanna they don't care about your scrutiny
All they care about is a better opportunity
While you and me complain about working everyday
They taking our jobs, and doing it for nothing
Cause when you come from nothing, a little equals something
They maximize the minimal and minimize consumption
He nurture's his children, and cares for his wife
Cause all he cares about is a better way of life
He lives within his means, he gives what he receives
He goes to work the same everyday real fatigued
The cities still awake while everyone is sleeping
He sleeps in the day and awakes in the evening
He never calls out, vacations an illusion
It's a f**ed up job but somebody's gotta do it
Chs:
Vs 3: This goes out to the caboose conductor
The transit authorities, the housekeepers-90% of em minorities
The homeless musicians, the talent less beggars
The Ahamed's and papi's at the one stop bodega's
Busboy's, bartenders, yellow cab drivers
We still show em love even though they pa** by us
The nurses and Nannies, who deal with little white pricks
The project janitors who work upon the night shift
The open MIC hosts and the open MIC performers
The open MIC attendants who stay just to support us
The dudes 12 to 12 hand to hand on the corner
The mta employees the backbone the aura
Of the never sleeping city, the apple, its core
The folks who go unseen, never honored or adorned
Take a look at history we're the allure of new York
Clock alarms unlock the bombs, they're the calm before the war comes