Hold on G.T.O. When your engine's hot And your foot hollers drag Get your wheels on the line Cause you won't run sick Hold your clutch down tight Rev it up to go You're about to do business With my mighty G.T.O. Go, go, go G.T.O. There's no match Cause I can't catch My G.T.O. Go, go, go G.T.O. On the way to the strip You know shows lost of style And nobody takes her In the quarter mile There's three parts On the manifolding Overs in the hood And their competition Steering wheel It's made out of wood Go, go, go G.T.O. There's no match Cause I can't catch My G.T.O. Go, go, go G.T.O. If you're looking for a speed You can get your kicks Yeah, I wind her up to sixty now I'm four-point-six The Stingrays and the Corvettes Never even show Cause none of them can catch me In my mighty G.T.O. Go, go, go G.T.O. There's no match Cause I can't catch My G.T.O. Go, go, go G.T.O. Rev her up and go Go, go, go G.T.O.