Hangtown Speedway

Hangtown Speedway

(Remington)
Heading down to Placerville Speedway
Race about a quarter mile
Drivers cutting the banks all tight
And the crowd was going wild
And they'll be riding
Where all the outlaws drive
And they'll be kicking a ton of dust in the air
Getting that dirt up in my beer, and we riding

(Ronny Ron)
There's something about old Saturday night
When the beer is cold and the air is just right
When you're in, them stands and under them lights
And the 3-ft flames coming out of them pipes
You get this feeling you can't deny
When you hear that engine with mud in your eye
When the tires spinning and they flying by
That's American like apple pie
You don't seem to get it, son
These boys will show you how it's done
Quarter mile like he's on the run
Hot as hell like the blazing Sun
Coming out that third turn
Hit the gas and let it burn
Get your spot and hold it tight
And stay out of that wall tonight
He's on your ass and he don't care
He's going to try to put you there
So grip that wheel and hold it tight
Till your knuckles turn all white
These boys sure give one hell of a show
While the crowd is stomped and screams out go
And the best two men go toe to toe
And the line outside is the only thing slow

(Remington)
Heading down to Placerville Speedway
Race about a quarter mile
Drivers cutting the banks all tight
And the crowd was going wild
And they'll be riding
Where all the outlaws drive
And they'll be kicking a ton of dust in the air
Getting that dirt up in my beer, and we riding

(JB Weld)
44 laps to go I swear to God I'm running on coal
Only turn left then you hold your breath
You make the floorboard touch your sole
I can smell the fluid off the radiator burnin
And its smelling like I'm in a pinch
No guts no glory its the same ol' story
Of an outlaws innocence
Engine still smokin' and my windshield broken
And i'm thinking about taking a pit
Suicide corner when I flew up on her
Checkered flag girl shaken her tits
No collision, pole position
Hope I make the line
Bold decision, whole shock's missing
No this aint the time
Metal shredding and I'm boxed in heavy
Now I'm driving just to survive
Soon as I get loose, I'ma drop the caboose
I'll be driving like i'm in a crime
In my 88 coupe with a crazy hood scoop
Drive the car like i'm ringing a bell
No competition and no ass kissing
When I drive I like given em hell

(Remington)
Heading down to Placerville Speedway
Race about a quarter mile
Drivers cutting the banks all tight
And the crowd was going wild
And they'll be riding
Where all the outlaws drive
And they'll be kicking a ton of dust in the air
Getting that dirt up in my beer, and we riding



Credits
Writer(s): Remington Peter Constable, Jason Francis Benka, Ronald Merrill
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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