The Grease Megamix - John Travolta

This car is automatic, systematic, hydromatic. Why it's a grease lightning (Grease lightning).

I got chills, they're multiplying, and I'm losing control.

'Cause the power you're supplying, it's electrifying.

You better shape up, 'cause I need a man. And my heart is set on you.

You better shape up, you better understand. To my heart I must be true.

Nothing left, nothing left for me to do.

We'll get some overhead lifters, and some four barrel quads, oh yeah!

(Keep talking, whoa, keep talking!)

Fuel injection cutoffs and crome 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 I ain't braggin', she's a real pussy wagon.

Greased lightnin'. Go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go.

We'll get some 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 braggin', she's a real pussy wagon.

Greased lightnin'. Go, go, go!

Summer loving, had me a blast.

Summer loving, happened so fast.

I met a girl, crazy for me.

Met a boy, cute as can be.

Summer days, drifting away.

Woah-oh, the summer night. (Ah well, ah well, ah well, uh!)

(Tell me more, tell me more) Did you get very far?

(Tell me more, tell me more) Like, does he have a car?