Song Lyrics

Headed out for Austin, now we're half way down the road
Hollering budda-budda-budda-budda-by
Steady staring out the window
It fells good, it fells nice, it feels like you need it
And back out on the road is where we like to be seated
We got half-pint style, we got a b-boy style
We got half-pint style, we got a b-boy style
We got to put that shit together in a creative style
We put that shit together in a creative style

Outside on the pavement I won't feel afraid
There's a little piece of paper saying how we walked that May
Back out on the highway, and this hurts to say
No one's got fingers, I got no one to blame

I can't make you overstand, rising up in a hip-hop stance
Society's got to me
That's all you need

Headed out to Houston, now we're halfway out the door
Hollering budda-budda-budda-budda-by
Staring out the window
It fells good, it feels nice, it feels like you need it
I know how females like to be treated
A license for me and the stars up above
And on the interstate I fell love, love, love
And If I never realize then that's how it has to be
And all DJs out there got to give me money

Back out on the freeway, I won't fell sane
Little yellow headlights look like snails smashed in the rain
Back out on the highway, and this hurts to say
Blown out speakers, I got no one to blame

I can't make you overstand, rising up in a hip-hop stance
Society's got to me
That's all you need, yeah, yeah

My way is your way, but I won't see
'Cause no one can tell you, you've got to be afraid
We got to go back on the highway, live behind the wheel
I want it real, I want it real
I want it real, real

Bradley James Nowell

The duration of Freeway Time in LA County Jail is 3:17 minutes and seconds.