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Jim St.. James
©2016 Jim St. James -
All rights reserved - BMI

Lyrics

Daddy yelled out to me
from 'neath the hood of his stock car
Boy, what the hell is wrong with you?
You're gonna blow your rear end off!
Well I smiled, sneered then began to steer, Cause here's what came about,
That tractor peaked out at 85 till my kerosene blend burned out!

I'm gonna drive it, drive it, drive it till the wheels fall off. Take her all the way to the finish line, that really turns me on..
Well my adrenaline's my gasoline
Just try an' make me stop,
I'm gonna drive it, drive it, drive it till the wheels fall off

Well those cherry lights were blindin' me
the siren pierced my ears
That trooper he was layin' in wait
But I didn't shed me a tear
Cause when his boots they touched to the blacktop, I popped the clutch and spun in gear, 4 on the floor with a 454
Left him in shrinkin' in my rear view mirror

I'm gonna drive it, drive it, drive it till the wheels fall off. Take her all the way to the finish line, that really turns me on..
Well my adrenaline is my gasoline
Just try an' make me stop, I'm gonna drive it, drive it, drive it till the wheels fall off

Well she was pretty as a Christmas angel
Leaning on that pole.. Glarin at me with a eyes of sin, The good kinda sin...you know.. Well she's a former clubber
helpin' me burn rubber, we're hell together - on this road, She gets my motor runnin' to a hundred and ten
That's bout all you need to know..

I'm gonna drive it, drive it, drive it till the wheels fall off. Take her all the way to the finish line, that really turns her on..
Well my adrenaline's is my gasoline
Just try an' make me stop, I'm gonna drive it, drive it, drive it till the wheels fall off

I saw my son - through the garage window, Building something in the yard. Boy, what the hell is wrong with you?
You're gonna blow your rear end off
Well I smiled, sneered and began to cheer when years later he was on TV.
That kid took the Nascar Sprint Cup home, he's a son of a gun... like me...

repeat chorus