Speedball Tucker

Lyrics

I drive a broke down rig on "may-pop" tires  
Forty foot of overload  
A lot of people say that I'm crazy  
Because I don't know how to take it slow  
I got a broomstick on the throttle  
I got her opened up and head right down  
Nonstop back to Dallas  
Poppin' them West Coast turn-arounds  
  
[Chorus]  
And they call me Speedball  
Speedball Tucker  
Terror of the highways  
And all them other truckers  
Will tell you that the boy is mad  
To be drivin' a rig like that  
  
You know the rain may blow  
The snow may snow  
And the turnpikes they may freeze  
But they don't bother ol' Speedball  
He goin' any damn way he please  
He got a broomstick on the throttle  
To keep his throttle foot a-dancin' round  
With a cupful of cold black coffee  
And a pocketful of West Coast turn-arounds  
  
[Chorus]  
  
One day I looked into my rear view mirror  
And a-comin' up from behind  
There was a Georgia State policeman  
And a hundred dollar fine  
Well he looked me in the eye as he was writin' me up  
And said "Driver, you been flyin'"  
And "Ninety-five is the route you were on  
It was not the speed limit sign"  
  
[Chorus: x2]