when I pop open the lid I take 'em to Johnny to get a check up fall up in the hood and kick it just to pick my check up ABN and Hoover gang bitch so
and dust fly up off of truck tires down a dirt road In Nashville, In the summertime, In 1996 I was listenin' to my dad and Johnny Cash Doin' chain gang
dead, before the age of twenty-one Left his son to grow, in the ghettoes of the slums With a shot that go, for twisted metal for cash flow React slow