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Working Class Iconoclast
If I wasn't born on your street,
If I'm not part of your social elite,
I may not 'belong' in the places you do,
But you'd be fucked without me, while I'm fine without
YOU
Sit in your office and you don't do jack,
While I'm out on there on the floor everyday and I'm breaking my back.
You should be glad for people like me, we're the backbone of your society. It's true;
I'm a working class iconoclast, here to stay and built to last.
A working class iconoclast, brash and loud and proud that my collar is blue.
So if you don't like the look of me, you goddamn yuppie bourgeoisie,
You silver-spoon-mouthed sycophant, fuck you.
Now we jump to the other end of the chain,
You've got five fucking children with four different last names.
You must be proud of the nothing you do,
On my worst day I'm still way better than
YOU
Compound the problem every time you have sex.
And you get pissed off when the liquor store won't cash your welfare cheques.
You should look up to people like me, you're a fucking drain on the economy. It's true;
I'm a working-class iconoclast, here to stay and I'm built to last,
A working-class iconoclast, brash and loud and proud that my collar is blue.
So, if you don't like the things that I say,
As you sit on your couch smoking crack all day,
You god-damn white-trash piece of shit, fuck you.
A working-class iconoclast, here to stay and I'm built to last,
Working-class Iconoclast, brash and loud and proud that my collar is blue.
So if you don't like the things I say,
Then you don't get it anyway,
And if you just can't dig it, then fuck you.