LYRIC

I'm a Moparman who know how to set the score.
I push that fucking pedal through the floor.
All is setup for your loss, I control what's really boss.
I can't go back to what I was before.

I give you hell, you know that class will tell,
I'm on a winning spree, don't pick on me.
I got the thousand yard stare.
Full frontal racing head, a Dodge bro born and bred.
Shot from the barrell of a gun, the blood is pumping in ya.
I'm a Leadfoot Ninja.

I'm a fearfree legend on a chain.
Got a gas control defect in the brain.
Aching to get out and go, nervous when it goes too slow.
You can lift my ballsack with a crane.

I give you hell, you know that class will tell,
I'm on a winning spree, don't pick on me.
I got the thousand yard stare.
Full frontal racing head, a Dodge bro born and bred.
Shot from the barrell of a gun, the blood is pumping in ya.
I'm a Leadfoot Ninja.

Well sorry, I gotta go.
Ain't got no time, no time to move so slow. No no.

First verse again.

Chorus

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