Her daddy's truck, her daddy's bottleOpen top, open throttleEighty-seven on a eighty-proofRunnin' through my lanesI'm drunk on speed, drunk on whiskeyAin't no free quite like sixteenStill had half a foot to growMakin' grown man mistakesPuttin' iron hearts to shameUp in my head, I was in firstWhole pack of cars on that fourth runBurnin' towards the checkered flagI was on a record lapHad my hand wrapped around that drinkTill that truck wrapped around that treeShould have gone to Heaven fastLearned a hard learned lesson thatWe all get more second chances than we shouldAnd number three and number seven don't add up to much goodFlashin' lights, flashin' memories'Fore my eyes, torn up bench seatPickin' glass out of my right armMade of never let you forget kinda scarredI lost that race when I let it start, butUp in my head, I was in firstWhole pack of cars on that fourth runBurnin' towards the checkered flagI was on a record lapHad my hand wrapped around that drinkTill that truck wrapped around that treeShould have gone to Heaven fastLearned a hard learned lesson thatWe all get more second chances than we shouldAnd number three and number sevendon't add up to much good, noHer daddy's truck, her daddy's bottleOpen top, open throttleUp in my head, I was in firstWhole pack of cars on that fourth runBurnin' towards the checkered flagI was on a record lap (I was on a record lap)Had my hand wrapped around that drinkTill that truck wrapped around that treeShould have gone to Heaven fast (should have gone to Heaven)Learned a hard learned lesson thatWe all get more second chances than we should (yes, we do)And number three and number seven don't add up to much goodDon't add up to much good (don't add up to much good, no)
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Number 3 and Number 7 (Feat. Eric Church)Morgan Wallen
Her daddy's truck, her daddy's bottle
Open top, open throttle
Eighty-seven on a eighty-proof
Runnin' through my lanes
I'm drunk on speed, drunk on whiskey
Ain't no free quite like sixteen
Still had half a foot to grow
Makin' grown man mistakes
Puttin' iron hearts to shame
Up in my head, I was in first
Whole pack of cars on that fourth run
Burnin' towards the checkered flag
I was on a record lap
Had my hand wrapped around that drink
Till that truck wrapped around that tree
Should have gone to Heaven fast
Learned a hard learned lesson that
We all get more second chances than we should
And number three and number seven don't add up to much good
Flashin' lights, flashin' memories
'Fore my eyes, torn up bench seat
Pickin' glass out of my right arm
Made of never let you forget kinda scarred
I lost that race when I let it start, but
Up in my head, I was in first
Whole pack of cars on that fourth run
Burnin' towards the checkered flag
I was on a record lap
Had my hand wrapped around that drink
Till that truck wrapped around that tree
Should have gone to Heaven fast
Learned a hard learned lesson that
We all get more second chances than we should
And number three and number seven
don't add up to much good, no
Her daddy's truck, her daddy's bottle
Open top, open throttle
Up in my head, I was in first
Whole pack of cars on that fourth run
Burnin' towards the checkered flag
I was on a record lap (I was on a record lap)
Had my hand wrapped around that drink
Till that truck wrapped around that tree
Should have gone to Heaven fast (should have gone to Heaven)
Learned a hard learned lesson that
We all get more second chances than we should (yes, we do)
And number three and number seven don't add up to much good
Don't add up to much good (don't add up to much good, no)
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