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 "driver you been Blind?" "Ninety-nine was the route you were on it ewas not the speed limit sign."
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