Heavily Packed

Lyrics

I’m shifting gears, sipping clears, looking in the rearview Miami heat fading out, D.C. is the clear view Eighty thousand pounds of contraband, the trailer's heavily packed With automatics in the cabin and the powder in the back. Cartel cowboys on my bumper trying to hijack the load I drop a gear and dump the clutch and run their rigs off the road. Steel crushes, metal twists, spark a blunt and hit the gas Fuck a weigh station, I blast right past the sirens on my ass. I got the diesel burning hot, I got the hammer pinned down Ain't no Bandit in a Pontiac, I own this fucking town. (Chorus) Eastbound and down? Nah, we going Northbound and strapped Got the pedal in the floorboard and the manifest is scrapped. White snow from the South, black steel for the capital Outlaw trucker in the fast lane, moving tactical. Load 'em up, gun 'em down, burn the rubber, break the law Fastest smuggling son of a bitch that the Eastern Seaboard ever saw. (Verse 2) Breaker, breaker, one-nine, got a problem on the line Smokey’s setting up a roadblock right across the county line. Downshift to a crawl? Fuck that, I’m ramming through the barricade Windshield full of shattered glass, laughing in the cavalcade. Pop a pill, grip the wheel, bloodshot eyes are laser-focused Scatter rival runners like a swarm of fucking locusts. Glock 19 in my lap, riding with the safety off Send a burst into the darkness just to hear the engine cough. We ain't hauling Coors beer, we moving war, we moving sin From the neon of the tropics to the spot the suits are in. So tell the buyers up on K Street that the shipment's on the way And any trucker in my path is catching hell to pay. (Chorus) Eastbound and down? Nah, we going Northbound and strapped Got the pedal in the floorboard and the manifest is scrapped. White snow from the South, black steel for the capital Outlaw trucker in the fast lane, moving tactical. Load 'em up, gun 'em down, burn the rubber, break the law Fastest smuggling son of a bitch that the Eastern Seaboard ever saw. (Outro) Yeah. Northbound and strapped. Keep the hammer down. (Sound of an airhorn fading into an echoing 808 drop) We gone.