Category : Pop
Hot box in the car getting dumb high
We be laughing in slow-mo–mo
All she really wants is fries and a mud pie
But the supermarket is closed, closed, closed
It's old jokes, good times when you come by
Something special I know, know, know
One half of the time it's a gun fight
The other half we're taking off clothes, clothes, clothes
And there will come a time when we're slowing down
We'll hold on to memories, memories
'Til then let's wreck shit and hold it down
I love when you're telling me, telling me