Hey man, you know I'm really OK
The gun in my hand will tell you the same
But when I'm in my car, don't give me no crap,
'Cause the slightest thing and I just might snap!

When I go driving I stay in my lane
But getting cut off; it makes me insane

Open the glove box,
Reach inside,
Gonna wreck this fucker's ride,
'Cause I got a bad habit
Of blowin' away, Yeah, Yeah
I got a bad habit, Yeah, Yeah
And it 'aint goin' away, Yeah, Yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeahYeah, yeah, yeah
Ohh Ohh Ooh ohh

Left side the road's a dangerous place
If you flip me off I'll get in your face
You drive on my ass,
Your foot's on the gas,
And your next breath is your last
'Cause I got a bad habit
Of blowin' away, Yeah, Yeah
I got a bad habit, Yeah, Yeah
And it 'aint goin' away, Yeah, Yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Ohh
Drivers are rude,
Such attitudes,
But when I show my piece,
Complaints cease, Something's odd,
I feel like I'm God,
You stupid dumb-shit god-damn motherfucker!

I open the glove box,
Reach inside,
Gonna wreck this fucker's ride,
'Cause I got a bad habit,
Of blowin' away, Yeah, Yeah
I got a bad habit, Yeah, Yeah
And it 'aint goin' away, Yeah, Yeah---
Ohh Ohh Ooh ohh