Twas the night before rice and all through the streets not a
Twas the night before Christmas and out on the street,
nothing was moving not even a jeep.
All was still with nothing in sight,
then what to my wandering eyes did I see,
but a Mustang SVT alone at a light.
The moonlight glistened off my wing, oh so gay.
My import was ready to show 'em the way.
I had some NOS on my tiny motor,
I would beat that Stang with it's Eaton supercharger,
I pulled alongside and revved up with a fart,
pointed to the wing on my gay shopping cart.
The light turned green, I was off like a jolt,
while the SVT filled the night sky with smoke.
I called to my Evo four pistons,
on basher,on crasher,on smasher,and the one knocking,
onward faster lets finish the slaughtering.
The engine did rev,I was ready for action,
but just at that moment the Mustang caught traction.
With a grin on his face,and a glean in his eye,
like a shot from a cannon, that SVT went by.
He blew by so fast, he spun me round twice.
I knew at that moment, I was freshly fried rice.
he held up one finger as he drove into the night,
all I saw was dimming taillights.
But I heard him exclaim as he roared outta sight,
"You stupid ricer, you can't beat Blue Oval dynamite."
