Before rocking in Kentucky I was rolling through Tennessee When I saw some state troopers chasing me They peed on my van let their dog sniff my crotch And said 'Hey there rockers you've been caught Your hell They said they found something but they wouldn't say what And they didn't have to show me at all They didn't have nothing I was just getting screwed That's the Goddammed Gospel truth Then some fat ass said 'Spread your cheeks let's see what you got up there' So I called my wife and mama and said 'Get me the hell out of here!' So I traded my chicken biscuit for a snuck in cigaretta And I dreamed of the words I wish I could have said Ain't your business, ain't your business, Whatever made you think that it was Ain't your business, ain't your business, That badge don't make you the boss To make me more paranoid than I already am It's like some twisted master plan Well I ain't changing nothing not a Goddammed thing So come on pigs catch me if you can