Story Behind the Song
The tale of the kinda guy who still dresses like Burt Reynolds in Smokey and The Bandit, still drives a 83 Trans Am, and still thinks he's good with the ladies....
Lyrics
Got a black Trans Am and I drive it fast,
A waitress walks by, I'll pinch her ass,
Hell, she won't mind anyway!
See me on highway, don't try to pass,
If you do I'll stomp the gas,
In my rearview mirror, you'll fade away.
So please ride with me truck stop girl,
Come get wild with me truck stop girl,
Blow your mind with me truck stop girl,
I wear designer jeans truck stop girl.
Hit it Sam!
A NASCAR jacket is all I need,
It's got my car's name written down the sleeve,
You know now, you want to ride with me.
My feathered hair, line dancin' classes,
Sportin' a pair of folding sunglasses,
I'm the coolest guy you'll ever meet.
So come ride with me truck stop girl,
A few miles with me truck stop girl,
Talk on my CB truck stop girl,
Feathered hair, no sun glare, t-top's out, hear me shout!
Designer jeans, NASCAR teams, drink Busch beer, I'll let you steer!
Big back tires, car backfire, they'll be heat in my back seat,
You know you want to ride with me, truck stop girl!
(swing yer partner do-si-so)
YE-HA!
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