WE AIN’T EVEN HIT THE TRAIL YET

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Three Jeeps are sitting outside. Coolers are getting lighter. The Rubicon is tomorrow. And somehow… Three grown-ass men are sitting in a hotel room drinking and listening to songs ChatGPT wrote about ’em. This oughta go well. [Verse 1] Dirty GJ’s kicked back, drink in his hand, Founding member acting like he’s got a master plan. DD’s talking shit from the other side of the room, Nubz fires right back—yeah, the bullshit’s in bloom. Gladiator, JK, LJ outside, All cleaned up now, but tomorrow that shit dies. Should probably get some sleep, got a long day ahead, Instead we’re drinking beer and talking shit instead. [Pre-Chorus] One more drink turns into four, Somebody’s laughing on the hotel floor. We came to wheel, but tonight’s first mission: Get drunk and make terrible decisions! [CHORUS] ’Cause we ain’t even hit the fuckin’ trail yet! And we’re already talking all kinds of shit! Dirty GJ, DD and Nubz, Three assholes getting themselves lit. Playing our own damn songs too loud, Laughing like idiots, feeling proud. Tomorrow morning those Jeeps gonna crawl— BUT TONIGHT WE AIN’T DOING SHIT AT ALL! [Verse 2] Dirty GJ says, “My LJ’ll walk right through,” DD says, “Bullshit, my JK’ll out-wheel you.” Nubz takes a drink, says, “You boys are cute, The Gladiator’s bringing your broken asses back down the route.” Now everybody’s an expert after another round, Talking about lines we ain’t even fucking found. Suspension, lockers, horsepower and gears, Every Jeep gets better with every goddamn beer. [CHORUS] We ain’t even hit the fuckin’ trail yet! And we’re already talking all kinds of shit! Dirty GJ, DD and Nubz, Three assholes getting themselves lit. Playing our own damn songs too loud, Like we’re some famous fucking crowd. Tomorrow morning those Jeeps gonna crawl— BUT TONIGHT WE AIN’T DOING SHIT AT ALL! [Bridge – spoken / half-time] Tomorrow… There’ll be rocks. There’ll be lockers. There’ll be low range. There’ll probably be somebody saying: “BACK UP! BACK UP! BACK THE FUCK UP!” But tonight? Dirty GJ’s holding a drink. DD’s talking shit. Nubz is making Wack-Chat write another fucking song. And nobody… NOBODY… is going to bed. [Breakdown – call and response] Who’s got the LJ? DIRTY GJ! Who’s got the JK? DD! Who brought the Gladiator? NUBZ! Who’s gonna be hurting tomorrow morning? ALL THREE OF US! What club is this?! I! O! R! What’s IOR?! A DRINKING CLUB WITH AN OFF-ROADING PROBLEM! [Final Chorus] WE AIN’T EVEN HIT THE FUCKIN’ TRAIL YET! And tomorrow’s gonna hurt like hell! Three Jeeps waiting in the parking lot, While three drunk idiots yell: I! O! R! Turn that Wack-Chat song back up! Dirty GJ, DD and Nubz! Tonight we drink, tomorrow we crawl, And if somebody breaks— WE’RE TALKING SHIT ABOUT ’EM ALL! From Bakersfield all the way up here, We brought the Jeeps and plenty of beer. Rubicon morning is coming fast… SO POUR ONE MORE— AND MAKE THIS HOTEL NIGHT LAST! [Outro – spoken] Alarm set? “Fuck… what time are we leaving?” “Who cares?” “Anybody got another beer?” … I! O! R!