Something's $#&@ed up %#@! always happens
Driving from Atlanta and were half way to Athens
The pedals on the ground the speakers blowing out

The cops are on out tale and I makes me want to shout
Thirty hits of Molly some blotter in the trunk
A joint to pass around in case we stop to get drunk

The lights are spinning on
My head is spinning off
But we're gonna die sooner than were gonna get caught

We like cheap cigs and gas station wine
Some colt y'all boys will probably do me fine
Thirty hits of blotter some molly in the trunk and were on our way home now to really $#&@ it up