Irs
It's a bummer, man,
when you get one of those
I owe you letters from Uncle Sam
Wait a minute,
yeah dude, you got it wrong
They don't owe me, I owe them!
Talk about flipping the script
Get your umbrella, and play the raincoat song,
'cause I'm spittin' mad, I'm tired of getting pissed on
How can this be: seeing how I work everyday,
pay my taxes on time too
And then get a letter from the IRS,
saying I owe you!
Ugh ... sorry 'bout that again
Saying I owe them!
Something's not right,
something's very wrong
When the IRS keeps threatening me
with that lame going to prison song
They make me wanna start
spittin' on some graves,
start marking some doors
They make me start to wonder,
why even bother working anymore
After I did all my talking tough;
huffing and puffing, fuming and fussing,
I got on the phone and set a meeting up
That day came, and I went to their office
waiting to be handcuffed
As I was saying goodbye to the man in the mirror,
a nice lady walked in and said they made a clerical error
That I didn't owe them, they owed me,
and the man in the mirror said, well I'll be
So that's the end of the story,
a story I still find hard to believe
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