Driving Through the Ghetto

When you're driving through the ghetto In your hillbilly truck 'Cause you made two wrong turns And suddenly you're outta luck And you look up in the projects And you start to smell that weed Lock your doors, turn the windows up Pray for the light to go green And you better be packing That ole 9 double M Rolling through Atlanta With that scared-ass white boy grin And you're comin' back from hunting But you shot through all your clips You call the cops but they just laugh Said we ain't comin' in If you get a flat You better drive on the rim And you better be packing Oh you better be packing And when you take a road trip After dark and you pull off The only place that's open Is a run down quickie mart And you want that Copenhagen But you have to go inside There's meth-heads drinkin' red bull Underneath a Bud Light sign So you better be packing That old 9 double M Rolling through Chicago With that scared-ass white boy grin And you're comin' back from hunting But you shot through all your clips You call the cops but they just laugh Said we ain't comin' in If you get a flat You better drive on the rim And you better be packing Oh you better be packing And we ain't in Kansas anymore Hell we're in south LA Where camo pants and spit cups mean I'm in a rival gang So I better be packing That old 9 double M Rolling through Miami With that scared-ass white boy grin And I'm comin' back from fishing But I didn't pack no clips You call the cops but they just laugh Said "No Ingles my friend" If you get a flat You better drive on the rim And you better be packing Oh you better be packing So don't be driving through the ghetto In your hillbilly truck