Texas Fuel

Intro

Idle — barely awake.

Hybrid — running on fuel and water.

Daily Driver — dependable regular.

High Octane — serious operator.

Gas Guzzler — heavy user.

Holy Pit Stop Guy —

lets it rip,

hauls gas,

takes lanes,

and tops off the tank.

Texas Fuel.

Power brew.

Wide open.

Full tilt.

Hauling gas.

Taking lanes.

Verse 1

Before the room had thunder,

before the pump had flame,

there was a blacked-out beast in the corner

waiting to earn its name.

Steel teeth started grinding,

water hit the core,

five pounds of roasted power

came alive behind the door.

It wasn’t soft.

It wasn’t sweet.

It wasn’t some café dream.

It was pressure, grit, and fire

rising out of steam.

Then the first pour hit the morning

like a driveshaft catching gear,

and the men who ran on empty

started leaning in to hear.

Pre-Chorus

LED-ed, un-LED-ed,

same machine, same flame,

take your pull, feel the torque,

then honor the name.

Texas Fuel in the bloodstream,

power brew in the veins,

wide open by sunrise,

hauling gas, taking lanes.

Chorus

We’re running wide open,

we’re moving full tilt,

Texas Fuel in the bloodstream,

whole day getting built.

Driveshaft torquing,

grit in the veins,

power brew roaring,

hauling gas, taking lanes.

Pour it up, pass it on,

keep the pump alive,

premium fuel, honor price,

and the fire inside.

Verse 2

First came the Idle,

barely rolling through the room,

one eye on the clock,

one foot still stuck in the tomb.

Then came the Hybrid,

running fuel and water thin,

half a cup of courage

and a slow roll back to win.

Then came the Daily Driver,

steady hand and iron will,

same lane every morning,

same cup getting filled.

Then came High Octane,

serious operator mode,

Texas Fuel lit the furnace

and put fire on the road.

Pre-Chorus 2

Fifty for the fuel,

fifty for the steel,

beans and upkeep,

honor made real.

No cashier on the counter,

no meter keeping score,

but the Lord knows your mileage

when you circle back for more.

Chorus

We’re running wide open,

we’re moving full tilt,

Texas Fuel in the bloodstream,

whole day getting built.

Driveshaft torquing,

grit in the veins,

power brew roaring,

hauling gas, taking lanes.

Pour it up, pass it on,

keep the pump alive,

premium fuel, honor price,

and the fire inside.

Bridge

Then the Gas Guzzler rolled in,

heavy foot and no brakes,

third cup loaded in the chamber,

whole room starting to shake.

But past the guzzlers, past the grinders,

past the men who never quit,

there’s a final kind of driver

who was born to let it rip.

That’s the Holy Pit Stop Guy,

custom lane, no disguise,

hauling gas through the morning

with the fire in his eyes.

He tops off what he takes,

keeps the pump alive,

then he hits the road roaring

like the work just met its drive.

Breakdown / Chant

Idle!

Hybrid!

Daily Driver!

High Octane!

Gas Guzzler!

Holy Pit Stop!

Wide open!

Full tilt!

Driveshaft torquing!

Iron will!

LED-ed!

un-LED-ed!

Take the pour!

Help feed it!

Honor price!

No shame!

Hauling gas!

Taking lanes!

Final Chorus

We’re running wide open,

we’re moving full tilt,

Texas Fuel in the bloodstream,

whole day getting built.

Driveshaft torquing,

grit in the veins,

power brew roaring,

hauling gas, taking lanes.

Pour it up, pass it on,

keep the pump alive,

premium fuel, honor price,

and the fire inside.

Outro

Texas Fuel in the morning.

Fire in the veins.

Fuel up freely.

Top off generously.

Run it hard.

Hold the line.

The Lord knows your mileage.

Texas Fuel.

Hauling gas.

Taking lanes.