Riding Shotgun in My Jacked-Up Truck

[Verse 1]
Got her ball cap low
Bare feet on my dash
Laughing at the speed limit sign
As it disappears back in the past
Cornfields leaning in
Like they wanna come along
Windows down, dust cloud rolling
Radio loud, singing wrong
[Chorus]
Riding shotgun in my jacked-up truck (yeah)
Crank that wheel, let the world shake up
Drop off the road where the blacktop ends
Kick that dirt, let the wild begin
Tires spit mud up in the air
Brown rain falling in her hair (woah)
This is our best life, baby, right here
Riding shotgun in my jacked-up truck
[Verse 2]
She says, “Turn there, babe”
Where the fence line breaks
Hit that rut, whole sky jumping
Heartbeat keeping time with the shakes
Got her boots in my lap
Her hand stealing my hat
She’s yelling, “Hit it!” over my shoulder
I slam it down and don’t look back
[Chorus]
[Bridge]
[low vocal register]
Headlights off, just moon and dust
Her kiss tastes like trouble and trust
[band drops, handclaps]
If this trail keeps going all night
We’ll just keep on chasing that high
[Chorus]

country, Big modern country stadium energy, male vocals. Open with clean electric and banjo over a half-time stomp, then kick into full drums and crunchy guitars on the chorus, crowd-ready “woah” gang vocals on the hooks. Second verse adds fiddle fills and call‑and‑response ad-libs. Bridge drops to drums and claps before a huge final chorus with stacked harmonies and a singalong outro vamp.