| You drive like you're in a tank | |
| And you're tanked | |
| With the way you're changing lanes | |
| No wonder you're banged up | |
| Maybe you should hang up | |
| Do what's right, do what's right, do what's right now | |
| And pull it over to the right | |
| You picked the wrong time to fuck with me | |
| You roll like the road is yours | |
| Uninsured, with those bent, expired plates | |
| Putting makeup on | |
| Inside the passing lane | |
| Not that bright, not that bright, not that bright, clown | |
| So pull it over to the right | |
| I see your parking sticker | |
| I see your visor Christ | |
| But you don't understand | |
| That the wheel in my hand | |
| Can decide you, fucker | |
| (breakdown) | |
| You drive like you're in a tank | |
| In the way and you're driving like a bitch | |
| You little piece of shit | |
| I'll put you in a ditch | |
| Do what's right, do what's right, do what's right now | |
| And pull it over to the right | |
| You picked the wrong time to fuck with me | |
| I see your parking sticker | |
| I see your visor Christ | |
| But you don't understand | |
| That the wheel in my hand | |
| Can decide you, fucker | |
| I see your mouth running | |
| I see your finger fly | |
| But you don't understand | |
| That the wheel in my hand | |
| Can decide your fucking life |
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