Pit-Stop

Pit-stop, get high.

Everything, everything is alright.

I still dress like a teen.

"Hey mama, my weed is so green."

Pit-stop, get drunk.

Everything, everything is so punk.

Should I stay or should I go?

Who cares, I don't have any hope.

Pit-stop, get tricky.

Everything, everything is so freaky.

No ice in my drink.

So what? I vote for Lee Ving.

I'm possessed by the racing god.

My green gas is 420.

I'm possessed by the racing god.

One for the speed, two for the smoke,

Three get ready for the dope, dope, dope.

Pit-stop, get booze.

Everything, everything is confused.

When punk goes pop, I screamed "Hang the Pope."

Pit-stop, get fast.

Everything, everything is a blast.

No racism is a must.

All the rest is total disgust.

I'm possessed by the racing god.

My green gas is 420.

I'm possessed by the racing god.

One for the speed, two for the smoke,

Three get ready for the dope, dope, dope.