If anyone wants to make the music for this (I really don't have the time), I will record the vocals.

[moody string intro]
22 to 23,
weekend fun for you and me,
Steventon in Oxfordshire,
it comes around but once a year.

[BEATS; verse 1]
The fun bus took them up a hill,
my Mum didn't attend - she's on the pill!
Camping, tents all in the rain,
so much water, it's on my brain.
Mother-truckers getting crunk n' shit,
CrabbyCrab representin'
y'all truckers complimentin'
my performance by the tentin'
where sleepy nights were spent in.

[FUCKIN' PHAT CHORUS, YO]
DiS at Truck was swell and that,
folks drank beer and bellies got fat,
someone who kissed my cheek was Matt,
I need some sleep and cleansing - stat!

[verse 2]
Rappy Jay and Hannah gettin' freaky,
CommanderCool - both sexy and geeky,
Bamos' penis in my face,
BobbyG's a disablist disgrace.
All the Toms givin' it large,
Adman was hiding in a barge,
n to the i to the c then e
squirrel and pimms equals "tee hee hee".
Fiona and Guntrip,
campin' in a tree,
yeah, C-A-M-P-I-N-G.
Tents and pylons,
do we got cancer now?
Cow? COW? COW? COW?

[chorus]

[verse 3]
Sunday night football on ma' nizzle,
heartbroken s was the mothertruckin' bizzle,
ho_fo, yo, you da shizzle!
Next year a bear plays, he be da grizzle.
Then y'all gots da crabby-izzle,
and ra-ra-ra-ra-rizzle rach-izzle,
these rhymes so hot they fizzle,
tristan hit by a missile.
Next year is a way away,
I'll find a cat we can all spay,
the French for 'I have' most definitely "J'ai,"
Wishpig claims I am a gay.

[chorus]

[alcock ukulele solo]

[chorus]

Repeat (to fade):
Truck Nine, so fine,
I drank some wine.