(w & m by Brian Wilson and Roger Christian)
Well,I’m not braggin’,Babe,so don’t put me down
But,I’ve got the fastest set of wheels in town
When something pulls up to me,It don’t even try
And if it had a set of wings,Man,I know I could fly
She’s my Little Deuce Coupe
You don’t know what I got
Just a Little Deuce Coupe with a flathead mill
But she’ll walk a Thunderbird like it’s standin’ still
She’s ported and relieved,and she’s stroked and bored
She’ll do a hundred and forty with the top end floored
She’s my Little Deuce Coupe
You don’t know what I got
She’s got a competition clutch,with four on the floor Yeah,
She purrs like a kitten till the lake pipes roar,
And if that ain’t enough to make you flip your wig,
There’s one more thing,I’ve got the pink slip,Daddy!
And comin’ off the line,when the lights turn green,
She blows ’em outta the water like you’ve never seen
I get pushed out of shape,And it’s hard to steer
When I get rubber in a all four gears
She’s my Little Deuce Coupe
You don’t know what I got