Dirty thirty season, got the bass up in the trunk
Pulled up to the party with a giant salsa chunk
Clock is ticking fast, but Jake is walking in a daze
Happy birthday homie, you been late for thirty days
Hard shell, soft shell, wrapping up his holy grail
Thirty taco wrapper trail, he left it on the scale
Texted him at eight o'clock, he hit me back at nine
Said he needed sour cream to get his life in line
Now he got some gray hair popping right behind his ear
Still can eat a thousand tacos every single year
Set the party timer, but he's sleeping on the couch
Thirty years of greatness with a taco in his pouch
Put the hot sauce on the cake and blow out all the flame
Jake is thirty now, but his arrival stays the same
If you want him early, tell him party starts at four
He will show at midnight with burrito at the door