He took a drive down the coast highwaynBlowin' where the air was fresh and cleannHe had a plan that said I'll do it my waynRollin' from the desert to the seannHit twenty-one years old up in prisonnJust a little night job with a stolen keynTwo years liftin' weights and pumpin' iron there in his cellnHe came out lookin' just like Mohammed AlinnHe drove around tailgating trucks and bussesnWhistling some new Michael Jackson tunenHe thought back on his momma and what she told him long agonDo it right son, please, don't do it wrong.nnHe's goin' homenGonna buy some stuff down at the piernHe's all alonenHe's got a radio, a gun, and some Japanese beernAnd on the highway he saw the big cars in linenAnd he thought, behind every fortune... there's got to be a crimennHe took a drive down the coast highwaynBlowin' where the air was fresh and cleannHe had a plan that said I'll do it my waynBut he could not plan for what he couldn't seennHe's goin' homenAll alonenAnd he stopped at a couple of markets and drug stores along the waynHe'd just walk up and down the aisle and smile––funny that waynnThe last place he drove into had to be my placenThey said he'd run out of gas anywaynAnd as he walked up to the counter with a blue steel gun in his handnI took out my long rifle and I blew him awaynI blew him awaynI blew him away