Eighty-Nine Cents in the ash trayHalf empty bottle of Gatorade rolling in the floorboardThat dirty Braves cap on the dashDog tags hangin’ from the rear viewOld Skoal can, and cowboy boots and a Go Army Shirt folded in the backThis thing burns gas like crazy, but that’s alrightPeople got their ways of copingOh, and I’ve got mineI drive your truckI roll every window downAnd I burn upEvery back
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