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Greased Lightnin' - From “Grease”

de John Travolta

Why this car is automatic
It's systematic
It's hydromatic
Why it's grease lightning (Grease lightning)

We'll get some overhead lifters
And some four barrel quads, oh, yeah
(Keep talking, whoa keep talking)
A fuel injection cutoff and chrome plated rods, oh, yeah
(I'll get the money, I'll kill to get the money)
With a four speed on the floor, they'll be waiting at the door
You know that ain't no shit we'll be getting lots of tit
In Grease Lightning
Go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go

Go grease lightning, you're burning up the quarter mile
(Grease lightning, go grease lightning)
Go grease lightning, you're coasting through the heat lap trial
You are supreme, the chicks'll cream for grease lightning
Go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go

Purple french tail lights and thirty inch fins, oh, yeah
A Palomino dashboard and duel muffler twins
Oh, yeah
With new pistons, plugs, and shocks I can get off my rocks
You know that I ain't bragging she's a real pussy wagon
Grease lightning

Go grease lightning, you're burning up the quarter mile
(Grease lightning, go grease lightning)
Go grease lighting, you're coasting through the heat lap trial
You are supreme, the chicks'll cream for grease lightning

Go grease lightning, you're burning up the quarter mile
(Grease lightning, go grease lightning)
Go grease lighting, you're coasting through the hit lap trial
You are supreme, the chicks'll cream for grease lightning
Lightning, lightning, lightning
Lightning, lightning, lightning
Lightning

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