RACECAR

Oh yeah, oh yeah

She said I hate my day job; I don't feel it

I need race car, top down to match my ceiling

I don't have none (Have none), dollar billies (Have none)

(One time, oh West Side)

She said I hate my day job; I don't feel it

I need race car, top down to match my ceiling

I don't have none, have none, dollar billies in my bag

Run- bag, run, **** your feelings, I detach them

Wonder why I had them, with her bad lungs

Running back to 'em, keep coming back if I hadn't known

Aren't you tired of running�

Never understand why, probably just a habit

She run it till the cash come, wonder what happened

Busy on the inside, why ain't got the answer

Why ain't got hands, I don't got answer

You and your friends, wherever the bands tucked, then-

She said I hate my day job; I don't feel it

I need race car, top down to match my ceiling

I don't have none, have none

Dollar billies in my bag, run- bag, run

**** your feelings, I de-

Pilot, I've gone high, parachute, this my first

If we land in quicksand, tell him too, I might die

Body-bagged, probably glad, had that price on my head

Took her hand in July, couple months, fall again

Hate my day job; I don't feel it

I need race car, top down like my ceiling

I don't have none, have none

Yeah, yeah

She said I hate my day job; I don't feel it

I need race car, top down to match my ceiling

I don't have none, have none, dollar billies in my bag

Run- bag, run, **** your feelings, I de-

Oh, West Side