Z71 covered in mud speed, cup long cut in the console Camo hat on the dash, hammer down on the gas chrome stacks blowing that black smoke There’s a party where the creek bank bends If you wanna go you gotta kick it in Four wheel high, riding needle 35’s 30 rack of bush line Bug knife, cut it open, shotgun it, hey all right Pouring gas on the fire, let them know that we’re out here in the middle And know we’re getting four wheel high Off of that no name road, we hear that rooster crow Spinning all day and night, just getting four wheel high Four wheel high