[Hook: Rabble-rousing car-lot male MC, shouted, full chest] Hand on the hood, I ain't sleeping, ain't blinking Forty on the truck and the numbers keep shrinking Sun go down, sun come up, still ain't thinking Bout nothing but the keys, ain't sleeping, ain't blinking [Verse 1: Rabble-rousing car-lot male MC, rabble-rousing, loud] Radio station parked a red truck at the lot Last hand on the hood takes home what it got Forty of us lined up at seven in the morning Palm on the paint and the host gave a warning Ten-minute break every six hours, no leaning Lose your hand once and you walk home screaming I'm broke as a joke, I been riding a bike So I told the whole line "y'all ain't built like this Y'all got beds, y'all got pillows, y'all got wives" I got nothing but this truck, and I'm ready to drive [Hook: Rabble-rousing car-lot male MC, shouted, full chest] Hand on the hood, I ain't sleeping, ain't blinking Forty on the truck and the numbers keep shrinking Sun go down, sun come up, still ain't thinking Bout nothing but the keys, ain't sleeping, ain't blinking [Verse 2: Rabble-rousing car-lot male MC, rabble-rousing, wired] Hour ten, twenty gone, they was crying for a nap Hour thirty, college boy fell in his own lap Now it's me and Miss Dolores, seventy years old Thermos on her hip and a rosary to hold I'm talking all night like a dog at a fence She just smiling at the hood like it all makes sense Hour forty, I'm seeing a raccoon do taxes Hour forty-five, I been arguing with axles Hour fifty and the parking lot's talking to me Saying "you a legend, bro," and I'm saying "I agree" [Bridge: Rabble-rousing car-lot male MC, hour fifty haze, the beat slows and smears as his eyes go, then the whole beat snaps back in full] Lights getting soft and the asphalt's warm Seeing three Doloreses in a single form Head on the windshield, just resting my head Not sleeping, just checking if the truck's still red [Verse 3: Rabble-rousing car-lot male MC, rabble-rousing, jolted, loud] Wake up to the host shaking me awake Drool on the glass like a slug on a lake He said "Dolores let go at nine for church" "You been the winner six hours, you been sleeping in your shirt" Palm still glued to the hood like a stamp Whole lot clapping and I'm stiff as a lamp Never been so proud to admit I was wrong Took the keys in my sleep and I slept all along Gave Dolores a ride to the service next week Told the whole pew that I don't need sleep [Final Hook: Rabble-rousing car-lot male MC, shouted, full chest] Hand on the hood, I ain't sleeping, ain't blinking Forty on the truck and the numbers keep shrinking Sun go down, sun come up, still ain't thinking Bout nothing but the keys, ain't sleeping, ain't blinking [Outro: Rabble-rousing car-lot male MC, yawning then shouting, the beat rings out and fades] Ain't sleeping Ain't blinking [End]
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