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"Getaway" is the ending song of "Scout's Dishonor," which is the third episode of season one of Camp Camp. It is composed by Richie Branson and Solar Slim, and is played during the ending sequence. Lasting for 3:15, it is the longest current ending theme (referring to the full song).

Lyrics

(Hey)
(Hey)
(Hey, save some fun for the rest of us!)
 
They can't handle the fact we act scandalous
I count cash, they call me the black abacus
Sent me off to the camp, I packed cannabis
They sniffed out the stash, well ain't that a bitch
 
I ain't trying to stay on scene
You won't quit to catch ghosts like the séance team
See me running coast to coast with the J's on feet
I'm copping out the low kicks like I'm Draymond Green
 
Oh wow, oh wow
Oh wow, it's a long way from SoCal
Same bullshit no matter where you go now
It's like (gay??), nothin' changed but the Lo-Cal
 
Yo I'm taking off fast like they can't scramble
Drunk the quartermaster's stash to the last handle
No difference, this camp of Camp Campbell
Still wack, like fanny-packs and bad sandals
 
Hold up (hold up)
Hold up (hold up)
Same bullshit no matter where we show up
Gotta get away, they ain't givin' no love
I’m just trying to lay low and get the dough up
 
Hold up (hold up)
Hold up (hold up)
Same bullshit no matter where we show up
Gotta get away, they ain’t givin' no love
I’m just trying to lay low and get the dough up
 
Only getaway, I had to make a move
I'd rather break the rules
Wish I could take a cruise, to another place
Livin' like a rebel
Gettin' high as treble
Smokin' like a kettle
 
That ain't the campfire
So put your hands higher
If you against the system
They some damn liars
 
Got me feeling like I'm up in Alcatraz
Let's hit another camp, it won't be half as bad
Out loud's riding with me like a saddlebag
Tryin' to come up on the grand like my daddy's dead
 
We was out lookin' for the cake, like some buttercream
We was bounding so hard they had to double-team
No, you know what I mean
My team's hard to handle
Like the end of the candle, movin' heavy as anvils
 
No matter where we go it's the same as Camp Campbell
All wack like jheri curls and Bassin Chambly
 
Hold up (hold up)
Hold up (hold up)
Same bullshit no matter where we show up
Gotta get away, they ain’t givin' no love
I’m just trying to lay low and get the dough up
 
Hold up (hold up)
Hold up (hold up)
Same bullshit no matter where we show up
Gotta get away, they ain’t givin' no love
I’m just trying to lay low and get the dough up
 
Hold up (hold up)
Hold up (hold up)
Same bullshit no matter where we show up
Gotta get away, they ain’t givin' no love
I’m just trying to lay low and get the dough up

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