Rat Fink Baby (Rockabilly)

Well, he’s got a pot-belly, bulging eyes of red A mop of green hair growing off his head He’s sitting in a roadster, blown engine in the rear The coolest little monster that you’ve seen all year Yeah, he’s shifting gears with a wicked little grin The gasoline king, let the madness begin! Oh, Rat Fink, baby, yeah, he’s tearing up the street With the roar of the pipes and the rhythm in the heat He’s a gear-head idol, he’s a low-brow soul Rolling on the blacktop, losing all control Rat Fink! (Yeah!) Rat Fink! He’s the king of the Kustoms, don’t you blink! Big Daddy’s pencil brought him to the light A hero of the fringe, looking for a fight He don’t want a hot rod painted candy apple red He wants a pile of scrap and a skull for his head He’s peeling out rubber, leaving smoke in the sky Watch the Rat go blurring as he’s flying on by! Oh, Rat Fink, baby, yeah, he’s tearing up the street With the roar of the pipes and the rhythm in the heat He’s a gear-head idol, he’s a low-brow soul Rolling on the blacktop, losing all control Rat Fink! (Yeah!) Rat Fink! He’s the king of the Kustoms, don’t you blink! Well, the grease on his hands is a badge of the trade He’s the legend of the garage that the rebels made From the strip to the show, he’s the talk of the town With that monster engine, he’s never slowing down! Oh, Rat Fink, baby, yeah, he’s tearing up the street With the roar of the pipes and the rhythm in the heat He’s a gear-head idol, he’s a low-brow soul Rolling on the blacktop, losing all control Rat Fink! (Yeah!) Rat Fink! He’s the king of the Kustoms, don’t you blink! Yeah, he’s burning rubber! Watch him go! Rat Fink!