| Look, I know your job is hard and you don’t make much dough
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| I see you out there every day in the sleet and the snow
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| And every time I’m drivin' by, you’re wavin', «hey-o, hello»
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| But there’s one thing you should know
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| I wake up every day feelin' so successful
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| Another day gettin' paid, pushin' the pencil
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| Sun on my face, keurig in my cup
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| SportsCenter on TV, turn it up
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| Everything is pleasant, I’m livin' a bit of heaven
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| And it inevitably ends abruptly at eleven
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| That’s when I hear his evilness
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| It’s that piece of shit up in the eagle whip
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| That mail man, knew he came to ruin my life
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| I’m sure payin' bills what I’m doin' tonight
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| He’s got the steerin' wheel on the British side
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| And every time I see him, I’m sad he didn’t die
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| Six days a week, this dude’s at my place
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| I try to be gone so I don’t see his face
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| But the mail’s waitin' for me when I do get home
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| Is it the bills for the phone or the student loans?
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| I can’t wait, he’s the nicest of folk
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| But I wanna put a knife in his throat
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| Brought me a letter sayin' my license revoked
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| You’re a douche, I wanna find you while you’re doin' your route
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| I wanna buy a deuce-deuce and put two in your boot
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| You make me wanna go psycho, postal, on you, you’re my arch nemesis
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| And I don’t feel bad 'cause I know you got benefits
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| Look, I know your job is hard and you don’t make much dough
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| I see you out there every day in the sleet and the snow
|
| And every time I’m drivin' by, you’re wavin', «hey-o, hello»
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| But there’s one thing you should know
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| Fuck you, Mr. Mail Man (hey!)
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| I don’t wanna see you no more (no more)
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| Fuck you, Mr. Mail Man
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| And don’t go knockin' at my door
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| Sorry, dude, I don’t know what to say
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| Every envelope you give me, I just throw 'em away (trash)
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| I don’t know why I take this shit
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| Knew I should’ve signed up for paperless
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| And I know that my bills be three weeks late
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| 'cause of what you give me, I’m not sleepin' great
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| And you could probably find a job at equal pay
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| But I know you like to ruin other people’s days
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| And I’m friends with the UPS man
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| 'cause everything he gives me is somethin' I want
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| Next thing, guess who shows up, man (who?)
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| It’s you with the bill for that somethin' I bought
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| You’re the reason why I never, ever borrow or loan
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| Stay far from my home unless you’re Karl Malone
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| And if I do say hi, it’s a snarlin' tone
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| And if I gotta pay a bill, I’ll just call on my phone and go
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| I know your job is hard and you don’t make much dough
|
| I see you out there every day in the sleet and the snow
|
| And every time I’m drivin' by, you’re wavin', «hey-o, hello»
|
| But there’s one thing you should know
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| Fuck you, Mr. Mail Man (hey!)
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| I don’t wanna see you no more (no more)
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| Fuck you, Mr. Mail Man
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| And don’t go knockin' at my door |