| Before rocking in Kentucky I was rolling through Tennessee
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| When I saw some state troopers chasing me
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| They peed on my van let their dog sniff my crotch
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| And said 'Hey there rockers you’ve been caught
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| Your hell
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| They said they found something but they wouldn’t say what
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| And they didn’t have to show me at all
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| They didn’t have nothing I was just getting screwed
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| That’s the Goddammed Gospel truth
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| Then some fat ass said
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| 'Spread your cheeks let’s see what you got up there'
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| So I called my wife and mama and said
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| 'Get me the hell out of here!'
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| So I traded my chicken biscuit for a snuck in cigaretta
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| And I dreamed of the words I wish I could have said
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| Ain’t your business, ain’t your business
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| Whatever made you think that it was
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| Ain’t your business, ain’t your business
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| That badge don’t make you the boss
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| To make me more paranoid than I already am
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| It’s like some twisted master plan
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| Well I ain’t changing nothing not a Goddammed thing
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| So come on pigs catch me if you can |