What do you want from me you dick? Do you want to make me chuck? Do you want to make me sick? It's no secret that you s** Yeah your closed minded reservations Just prove just prove to me you're weak My suspicions and confirmed Everytime you go and speak And I struggle up and down Just to pay the rent each week Then I play a pop song cause I wanna Some little rich a** freak Tells me how his mate thinks that we've sold out In their 40 dollar band t-shirt from america No doubt you went and changed your puck rock style You used to live for nofx Now you are far too good for that Once you even wore an x You went a month without drinking And put texta on your hands Washed them off, went on a pub crawl When you heard that drinking band What do you want from me?