[P.O.S.]
Yeah, yeah...
Don't let 'em get a handful, see 'em with a handle of jack
Or crossed fingers on the hands behind their back
And with a knack to trust then disrupt
Lose trust then change the rules up
And who's up for tax cuts? (Crime pays)
Hidden estates with like really long driveways
Crime pays, rats in the hallway
Aim for the crack, fuck minimum wage
It goes, anyways sipping on a dry gin
Heavy headed living in and out of my skin
And living livid, glad for the chance
Glass full of gas with a rag in the other hand
Wild like a Taliban
Wild like a child slapped in the grin, black be the skin
Packed full of carbon
Packed full of carbon and starving again, c'mon

[Jason Shevchuk]
There's eyes in the back of my head!

[P.O.S.]
Yeah, hold up, the buck stops disintegrating here (yeah right)
The fear generator's here y'all warmer
Deviating clear past the consumer, room for improvement
Trade space with some doom and gloom
Renovate with the renegade
Skate like the centigrade dropped
Consider the cold "copped" like a motorcade
And roll away contagious
And infect the vacant, good the fuck gracious
Gotta debase the basic, erase the facelift
Taste a bad case of the breaks and heal
Gotta create the makeshift
Swagger like it's yours and debate whatever you don't feel
And don't come "Knock knock, who's there? Boo, boo, who"-ing
Live a little better than a bad joke
Who ruins? Chew through your wrist
Come on, let's do it, let's, let's, let's go
[Jason Shevchuk]
There's eyes in the back of my head!
I want 'em blinded, I want 'em blinded
But if I find the man who put my foot in the sand
And other heavy hearts, oh, oh, oh
Make it impossible to cleanse his sins
So unforgettable, so unforgettable
I-oh, oh, oh
I-oh, oh, oh
There's eyes in the back of my head!