Stroker Ace was born to race, he had a mean streak ten feet wide

A son of a gun with a taste for fun, and more than his share of pride

Take a dirt road curve with the devil's nerve and make a car dance across the mud

Haulin' shine was his regular line, till the track got in his blood

Was a real hot shot and he bragged a lot, but man, that fool could drive

'Cause he loved the feel of the steerin' wheel and the girls with the bedroom eyes

And in a racin' tide or a bar room fight, Old Stoker stole the show

A back stretch blazer, a real hell raiser and a racetrack Romeo

Mama lock your daughters up, that wild bunch is back in town

And them little girls get frisky when they hear that racecar sound

They're bringin' out the yellow flags

Somebody's brakes have failed

There's oil slick on the inside, and a wreck along the rail

You better stand on it, Stroker, 'cause a bandit's on your tail

It's a downright joy for a country boy, when he hears them engines moan

But you gotta hand tough and it gets real rough, when you're out there on your own

'Cause they'll push you around, they'll knock you down

They'll shove you up against the wall

And you'll always know when the engine blows, and a man can't win 'em all

You could push that car just a little too far any Sunday afternoon

And if you break your neck in some damn fool wreck, they forget about you soon

But old Stroker Ace was born to race, and it's worth all the tryin'

Just to drink champagne in the Victory Lane and to hear that concrete whine

Stroker, get your dander up, this ain't no time to lag

You've got to make a lap up if you're gonna take that checkered flag

Number ten is closin' in to even up the score

It's time to wave bye-bye and put the pedal on the floor

You better stand on it, Stroker, 'cause you're blowin' off their doors

Blow their doors off, Stroker

Stand on it, son

Ah, you good-lookin' devil, you