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My left hand on my leather wheel

My right on a female neck

Doin her job

Ready to come

I feel alright at 200 miles ...

Sirens are howling, my bitch is screaming

Cops seem to want something

I'm over the limit

Slam on the brakes

I need to get out to breath the air

Hands on the hood of my Corvet

I feel at ease to regurgitate

You have the right to remain cool

Anything you say can and will be used

in magazines

If you can't

Afford a whore, one will be provided for you

Ho Ho Ho Ho

Don't you know that rock stars never go to

jail?

Ho Ho Ho Ho

Guilty for having too much fun

A shithead dare to cross my path

to think I won't loose time to teach him math

Jacked closed

Stopping the pose

2 minutes and I'll be suave again

Punch him in his loser face

Send him far away in outer space

His fucking head

Right down on the ground

The Cops are sounding the end of the round

With a gun aimed at me

I feel more secure to pee