(Verse 1 – Melissa narrating the launch into idiocy) Deadeye mashin' the gas in the white truck like it's NASCAR apocalypse, Screamin' "GOLD BABY GOLD!" while the shocks cry uncle and collapse. Back seat hellscape: Tracy and Chewy morphed into a four-limbed regret pretzel, Tracy's foot asleep, Chewy's hip doin' the "I'm dyin' over here" festival. "STOP BREATHIN' ON MY NECK!" Tracy barks like a caffeinated chihuahua. Chewy fires back: "MY HIP JUST SENT A RESIGNATION LETTER VIA CARRIER PIGEON, DUH!" Melissa shotgun, chuggin' energy drinks, tossin' wrappers: "Y'all cute—gold or bust, losers!" (Chorus – full squad howling like hyenas in a freezer) NO GOLD! JUST COLD! ASSES TURNED INTO FROZEN CHICKEN NUGGETS! Hikin' rocks like concussed mountain goats—pure physical nuggets! Chewy's hip now has its own Instagram for complaints only, Tracy's butt declared independence—needs its own country, lonely! Out of breath? Nah, out of IQ points, blue as expired blueberries, White truck legends? More like white truck "why are we still alive" stories! Tracy, Chewy backseat civil war, Melissa chaos gremlin queen, Deadeye delusion chauffeur—we're the dumbest squad ever seen! (Verse 2 – Mishap montage, escalating to absurd levels) First mishap: Chewy trips on his own shoelace, faceplants into a bush full of angry squirrels—squirrel war declared! Tracy tries to help, slips on wet moss, slides down the bank like a human luge—lands ass-first in the shallows, screams "MY CHEEKS ARE NOW ICE CUBES!" Deadeye "helps" by chuckin' the spare pan—misses the water, beans Melissa right in the forehead: "OW! That's my content forehead!" Melissa retaliates: yeets her empty chip bag—wind catches it, wraps around Chewy's face like a sad ghost mask—he panics, runs in circles, hip poppin' like popcorn. Second wave: Tracy finally gets a pan swirl goin'—spills it all when a rogue fish jumps out and slaps her in the face like "get outta my crib!" Chewy bends over to grab gravel—hip locks up mid-bend, stuck like a broken lawn chair, yellin' "I'M A HUMAN QUESTION MARK NOW!" Deadeye decides to "test the depth"—steps in, water up to his neck instantly, hat floats away like "see ya, suckers!"—he flails back out lookin' like a drowned raccoon. (Verse 3 – More mishaps, because why stop the trainwreck?) Third disaster: Melissa films "slow-mo gold swirl" for TikTok—phone slips from frozen fingers, plops straight into the river, goodbye viral dreams, hello fish's new selfie stick! Tracy tries to fish it out—leans too far, tumbles in headfirst, emerges sputterin' "THE WATER TASTES LIKE REGRET AND OLD SOCKS!" Chewy, still locked in pretzel pose, gets attacked by a swarm of mini black flies—swattin' wildly, accidentally knocks his own pan into the current: "NOOOO MY EMPTY DREAMS!" Deadeye climbs a rock for "better view"—rock shifts, he rides it down like a terrible skateboard, lands in a thorn bush butt-first: "MY CHEEKS MATCH CHEWY'S HIP NOW—BETRAYED!" (Bridge – The frozen, defeated squad therapy sesh)

Funny gold