I'm punchin' a clock, carryin' my lunch in a box

So don't ever assume that my life is something it's not

Shit, I got a 9 to 5, dispite the fact that I'm as live

As any jerk-off cat that's signed to Jive

My boss is trying to drop me out my tree house

For at least three hours a day, he's chewin' me out

For two to three thou. a month, they don't pay me enough

To spend my work day, taking this stuff this jerk say

I ain't workin' over time

I'm tryin' to hear my name on MTV news up, in Kurt Loader's lines

So I work over rhymes, and I'm behind in my paper work

I'm late for work, cause I spend my nights chasin' skirts

My measly checque don't make it worth the stress

That hurts my chest, not to mention I'm emmersed in debt

To the top of a turtle neck, pissin' an moanin'

But why should anyone listen to me, when I don't listen to no one

Consider this as an omen, I could go beserk

At any moment, like a mail man fed up with postal work

I went from happy to nasty like a Bi-Polar jerk

To shoot em down the lounge with the fine foldgers perks



Punch in, Punch out, Lunch in, Lunch out

I've been lookin for a building with nice window to jump out

Feelin' self destructive? Sick of the daily grime?

Lately I feel disruptive, and I think its mailman time

*beat changes*

Day in, day out, It seems like theres no way out

I pulled the twelve gauge out and shot off twenty-eight rounds

And watch the pellets spread out, killin my associates

My boss is gonna get it now, and find out what Postal is



"Good morning Mr. Schwartz" "Good morning Louis

You've been late three times this month already, I believe this is the fourth"

"I don't want you misinformed, it's probably more-ac