I was idling smooth at a stoplight red
When this Camaro thundered right up beside
His challenge was futility
'Twas nary a test of my virility
'Cause real men Do It in the corners.

When I take my girl out for a spin
I forego revving and dropping the clutch
I just go up on two wheels
'Till she whimpers and squeals
'Cause real men Do It in the corners.

Some guys fret about their ¼ miles times
And their 0-60 acceleration
But get me on a track
Where my neck bones can crack
'Cause real men Do It in the corners.

I've got powder-coated coil-overs with gas filled shocks
17-inchers wrapped in low-profile rubber
My camber's so splayed
Speed bumps are dismayed
But real men Do It in the corners.

Roll bars, sway bars are bolted in place
My bods stiffer'n cold-rolled steel
So when I'm deep in the apex
Ain't nothin' gonna go flex
'Cause real men Do It in the corners.

I'm all set up for the winding ways
With twists that test my resolve
Wusses like the straight and clean
I prefer pure serpentine
'Cause real men Do It in the corners.

Muscle car brutes may think they're real cute
Laying rubber and charging ahead
All that white smoke said
Was "What a waste of good tread."
'Cause real men Do It in the corners.

Some may like torque that kicks their pants
But, for me, give me a hairpin turn
That presses my face fast
Against the side window glass
'Cause Real Men Do It in the Corners.

Real Men Do It in the Corners
Real Men Do It in the Corners
You can drive fast and straight
But real curves are my bait
'Cause Real Men Do It in the Corners.