Frank was a contractor, who got up every morning
Skinin' cats and fixin' cars, his day was far from boring
Running down those punks was always on his mind
Ford was wired for nitro, Canister sat in the back
A ten inch slicks, ratchet shift, smoke, rubber laid in his tracks
Frank didn't like us, just wanted to have some fun
Played our music and he put us on the run
Frank started the beast, smoke spewed from the trunk
Oil sprayed from the hood, that can of nitro junk
The car swelled then exploded, flying across the street
Frank slowly stepped out, staggering to his feet
So our story ends with the psycho contractor guy
If Frank's around, turn the music down
And you better learn how to run fast