Hey man you know I'm really okay
The gun in my hand will tell you the same
But when I'm in my car
Don't give me no crap
'Cause the slightest thing and I just might snap

When I go driving I stay in my lane
But getting cut off, it makes me insane
Open the glove box, reach inside
Gonna wreck this fucker's ride

I guess I got a bad habit of blowin' away (yeah, yeah)
I've got a bad habit (yeah, yeah)
And it ain't goin' away (yeah, yeah)
Yeah, yeah (yeah, yeah)
Yeah, yeah, oh

Well they say the road's a dangerous place
If you flip me off, I'll get in your face
You drive on my ass
You're foot's on the gas
And your next breath is your last

'Cause I've got a bad habit of blowin' away (yeah, yeah)
I've got a bad habit (yeah, yeah)
And it ain't goin' away (yeah, yeah)
Yeah, yeah (yeah, yeah)
Yeah, yeah, oh

Drivers are rude, such attitudes
But when I show my piece, complaints cease
Something's odd, feel like I'm God
You stupid dumb-shit god damn motherfucker

I open the glove box, reach inside
Gonna wreck this fucker's ride

'Cause I've got a bad habit of blowin' away (yeah, yeah)
I've got a bad habit (yeah, yeah)
And it ain't goin' away (yeah, yeah)
Yeah, yeah (yeah, yeah)
Yeah, yeah (yeah, yeah)
Yeah, yeah (yeah, yeah)
Yeah, yeah, oh

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.,
Writer(s): Dexter Holland, Greg Kriesel, Kevin Wasserman, Ron Welty