License from a Cereal Box

It seems every time we’re driving down the trans-canada #1
The traffic’s growing worse everyday it doesn’t really help
When there’s a bozo at the wheel slowing down cutting people
Off I don’t think it’s funny. Hit the gas, hit the brakes
In a traffic jam I think I’m late for work got your license
From a cereal box you don’t know how to drive you’re just a fucking jerk
It never fails getting on there’s always something going
Wrong a lot of cars a lot of smog (well, not as much as L.A.)
It’s pretty hazy when a blowout in a tire becomes
Such a big desire for idiots to watch, slow down it makes me crazy
Think you know how I feel what I need is a new automobile
Like the game spyhunter I could enjoy anyone
Who would annoy set the missiles seek and destroy