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Down the roads of Mississippi

Through the fog and the haze

Ain't been asleep, in 6 or 7 days

Moonshine and speed

Is all that  I need

Filling piss jugs with trucker bomb tea

Singin'

Chicken fried

20 sacks

Chicken fried

20 sacks

The cargo in the back

Hasn't breathed in a week

Decapitated and rotten to the T

Eyelids are heavy

Always trying to shut

While my brain thinks about necks

My knife did cut

Singin'

Chicken fried

20 sacks

Chicken fried

20 sacks

Cutting and ripping

And maiming and tearing

Itching and scratching

Psychosis is real

Cutting and ripping

And maiming and tearing

Itching and scratching

Psychosis is real

Cutting and ripping

And maiming and tearing

Itching and scratching

Psychosis is real

Psychosis is real

Psychosis is real

Psychosis is real

Not sure what was real

Or what was a mirage

So I pulled to the side, that was self sabotage

When the cops pulled up

I was dead in the cab

With a bullet in my brain and a pipe in my lap

Singin'

Chicken fried

20 sacks

Chicken fried

20 sacks

Chicken chicken chicken fried