Grin[Intro]
(Yeah) Night shift, day shift, same grind, same city
Pages light up—let’s get it, let’s get it
Coffee in the rig, shoulders tight, no pity
We clock in, clock out, still carry the city (woo)
[Hook]
We don’t get paid what the weight of the world is worth (nah)
But we still pull up, put life back in your verse (yeah)
Backs ache, hearts big, sirens sing in thirds
“9-1-1 again?” we still slide feet first
Lift heavy, pray steady, count breaths, not perks
Grind don’t get overtime—still we show up and work
[Verse 1]
Two calls deep, third tone chirp, I’m numb to the beep
Bariatric lift, stair chair—count “1-2-3” (go)
Lumbar screaming but my partner says “breathe”
LP-15 on the seat, ETCO₂ reads
Run sheet scribbles while we hit the next street
BVM squeeze like a drummer on beat
Folks call late night for a cough and a tweet
But I won’t judge—show love, drop heat
Vitals like a metronome: temp, pulse, resp
BP cuff hum like a crowd in the mezz
C-collar on, we align, then we prep
IV flashback—clean stick, no mess
“Frequent flyer,” knows my name, knows the steps
Still I tuck the blanket, smooth out the fret
No gold chains here—just patches and sweat
Whole city on our back like a weighted vest
[Hook]
We don’t get paid what the weight of the world is worth (nah)
But we still pull up, put life back in your verse (say what)
Backs ache, hearts big, sirens sing in thirds
“9-1-1 again?” we still slide feet first
Lift heavy, pray steady, count breaths, not perks
Grind don’t get overtime—still we show up and work
[Verse 2]
Dispatcher says, “Unknown pain,” I’m like, “copy”
We roll anyway, make chaos feel tidy
Hydrate, rotate, stretch hamstrings lightly
Still feel the L5 barkin’ politely (oof)
Streetlights flicker like the monitors do
O₂ sat dips, then it climbs back smooth
We don’t get clout, just a cold break room
And a rumor mill louder than the diesel’s boom
“Scrubs and suits whispering, office romance?”
I just chart my notes and adjust my stance
I’m married to the job when the tones advance
If love’s in the hallway—keep it work-safe, fam
Because the city needs clear heads, tight crew
From a stubbed-toe call to a real code blue
If you game the line, we still show through
But the oath is the oath—treat them all like you
[Bridge]
(Hands up) For the partners who split the weight (let’s go)
(Hands up) For the nights when the pager ate
All your sleep, all your plans, but you kept your faith
Count it: in for two, out for eight—regulate
(Hands up) For the backs taped up with ice
(Hands up) For the chiefs cutting budgets tight
We make miracles with pennies and a praye
