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Hand-me-down sneakers with the cardboard tucked inside
I traced the silver duct tape with a quiet pride
We didn't have the credit, but we had the loud laugh
Grandma's clock was the only thing we ever bought in cash
The landlord knew our name, he'd wait on the first
Mama smiled and said, 'Child, we'll handle the worst'
We ate simple rice and praised the salt and the steam
Each plate held a lesson in a quiet dream
Now the table's grown long, and the guests all stay
I pour the water first, then pass the tray
I still wash the dishes when the feast is done
The hungry years taught me how to share the sun
They see the penthouse now, they don't see all the dues I signed
They hear the steady laugh, not the weight of the years I mined
But I still keep that old ledger in my mind
Every stair that I climb is a stone I find
A high roof, far glass
I walk the floor where builders passed
The lean years, they don't make me small
I know the weight of a simple meal
No mask, no fake gold
I set the tone with a hand that is real
I'm proud of the dirt I used to till
So I greet the world with a patient will
That's real class
I learn all the names of the night staff
I remember the cook who offered me his half
Janitor showed me how to mop the floor
He said, 'Keep your side of the line, and the dirt won't score'
Now I sign the checks but I still carry the keys
I open on holidays, scrub the glass with ease
The night security guard at work shared his lunch with me
He gets a full spread at the annual Christmas tea
That's the only currency that never inflates
Loyalty compounds when you open the gates
I don't need a bronze statue in the town square
I just make sure the table's full when the cold winds blare
They don't know the hunger that I kept behind my belt
They don't see the mended socks or the way I really felt
I measure my worth by the hands I shake
Not the size of the bet I choose to make
A high roof, far glass
I walk the floor where builders passed
The luxury doesn't bend my spine
I recall the bench and mended coat
No dust, and no shame
I answer the doors with an honest name
The grit I had is the prize I claim
So I move with grace, not a trace of game
That's real class
