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They see the weight, they see the strain
They see the muscle, but not the pain
They think it's easy, just lifting steel
But they don't know the grind, they don't
Know the deal Up before dawn
Sweat hits the ground
Every single rep, every ounce
Every pound It's more than just body
It's more than just size It's a battle every day
Through bloodshot eyes They say it's madness
They say it's vain but they don't know the fire
They don't know the flame
Discipline in every meal, sacrifice in every set
It's a passion they can't see, a love they won't get
It's not just muscle, it's the heart that bleeds
It's the fight for power, it's the drive it feeds
They call us meatheads, but they don't understand
We're building more than bodies
We're building who we am
Every tear in the muscle, every scream in the bone
It's a sacrifice made in the gym all alone
It's hours of hunger, it's the pain in the night
It's the dream of being better
Of reaching new heights, they see the flex
They see the pose But they don't see the struggle
The highs and the lows
It's a mental game, a war with the mind
It's finding strength when there's nothing left to find
They think we're mindless, just chasing the size
But they don't see the fire, burden in our eyes
Every meal measured, every moment planned
It's the mark of discipline, the measure of
A man It's not just muscle, it's the heart that
Bleeds It's the fight for power, it's the drive it
Feeds They call us meatheads
But they don't understand
We're building more than bodies
We're building who we am
They see the surface, they don't see the cost
Every gain we make, there's a piece of us lost
But we keep pushing through the aches and the scars
Cause the iron doesn't lie, it shows who we are
It's not just muscle, it's the heart that bleeds
It's the fight for power, it's the drive it feeds
They call us meatheads, but they don't understand
We're building more than bodies
We're building who we am
So let them talk, let them laugh, let them score
They'll never know the love
The pain we've borne
We are the disciplined, the few who stand
In a world of comfort, with iron in our hands