I drive a broke down rig on "may-pop" tires
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Forty foot of overload
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A lot of people say that I'm crazy
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Because I don't know how to take it slow
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I got a broomstick on the throttle
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I got her opened up and head right down
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Nonstop back to Dallas
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Poppin' them West Coast turn-arounds
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Chorus:
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And they call me Speedball
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Speedball Tucker
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Terror of the highways
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And all them other truckers
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Will tell you that the boy is mad
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To be drivin' in a rig like that
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You know the rain may blow
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The snow may snow
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And the turnpikes they may freeze
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But they don't bother ol' Speedball
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He goin' any damn way he please
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He got a broomstick on the throttle
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To keep his throttle foot a-dancin' round
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With a cupful of coal black coffee
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And a pocketful of West Coast turn-arounds
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(Chorus)
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One day I looked into my rear view mirror
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And a-comin' up from behind
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There was a Georgia State policeman
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And a hundred dollar fine
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Well he looked me in the eye as he was writin' me up
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And said, "Driver, you've been flyin'!"
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"And ninety five was the route you were on, it was not the speed limit sign."
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(Chorus)2x
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Speedball Tucker
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Jim Croce |