The Big Three, killed my baby, no money in my hand again. The Big Three, killed my baby, nobody's coming home again. Their ideas made me wanna spit. A hundred dollars goes down the pit. Thirty thousand wheels are rolling. And my stick-shaped hands are swollen. Everything involved is shady. The Big Three, killed my baby. The Big Three, killed my baby, no money in my hand again. The Big Three, killed my baby, nobody's coming home again. Why don't you take the day off and try to repair? A billion others don't seem to care. Better ideas are stuck in the mud. The motor's running on Tucker's blood. Don't let them tell you the future's electric. Cause gasoline's not measured in metrics. Thirty thousand wheels are spinning. And oil company faces are grinning. And now my hands are turning red. And I found out my baby is dead. Yeah, yeah, yeah. The Big Three, killed my baby, no money in my hand again. The Big Three, killed my baby, nobody's coming home again. Well, I've said it now, nothing's changed. People are burning for pocket change. Their creative minds are lazy. And the Big Three, killed my baby. Yeah, yeah, yeah. And my baby's my common sense. So don't feed me bland nonsense. Yeah, my baby's my common sense. So don't feed me bland nonsense. I'm about to have another blow-up. I'm about to have another blow-up.