[INTRO] [Low, raspy, close-mic spoken word] Easigh... [Pause] Steady, girl... put it in the wind. [VERSE 1] [Dense rhythmic flow, West-Coast pocket, heavy Southern drawl] Runnin' heavy on the three-five... swallerin' the grey, Dodgin' every scale house, pushin' through to day. Give that pedal just a nudge... let the diesel spit, Eighty thousand draggin'... and it never gonna quit. Can't let a heavy mind slow down a heavy load, Just a ghost burnin' rubber on a dead-end road. Thirty-Five! Yeah, we pushin' straight through the black, Keep the world spinnin' on a mothafucka's back. [PRE-HOOK] [Tempo slows slightly, intimate storytelling, dry vocal] Yeah... look at 'em pass... Nothin' but taillights fadin' out in the glass... [HOOK] [Aggressive rhythmic delivery, punching the beat] Every mile marker's just a ghost on the run, Every single state line blockin' out the sun. Distance ain't a number, it's a measure of the pain, Burnin' up the diesel just to stand in the rain. Yeah, I feel it in the floor... [VERSE 2] [Conversational rap, Snoop Doggy Dogg delivery style, gritty emotional confession] I wrecked it, I know it... ain't duckin' the blame, Just starin' at the flicker of the dash lights, steady cursin' out my own damn name. Playin' stone-cold killer for the boys at the stop, But I'm bleedin' out in pieces every single time I let the heavy gears drop. Sorry's just a cheap word, it don't pay the tab, With the heavy midnight silence steady deafenin' the inside of this lonely cab. I can grip this leather wheel till my knuckles go pale... 'Cause without ya ridin' shotgun right beside me, this whole rig is just a rollin' jail. [PRE-HOOK] [Vulnerable, close-mic, exhausted] Yeah... look at 'em pass... Nothin' but taillights fadin' out in the glass... [HOOK] [Aggressive rhythmic delivery, maximum energy] Every mile marker's just a ghost on the run, Every single state line blockin' out the sun. Distance ain't a number, it's a measure of the pain, Burnin' up the diesel just to stand in the rain. Yeah, I feel it in the floor... [BRIDGE - MUSICAL DROP] [Harmonica stabs, thick sub-bass, sparse vocals] Just the hum of the tires... And the static on the dial... [Deep inhale] Yeah... [OUTRO] [Fading rhythm, spoken word] The Three-Five. Keep rollin'... [Pause] Ain't got nowhere else to go. [Fade to silence]
