Vanellope: What can it be that calls me to this place today
This lawless car ballet, what can it be?
Am I a baby pigeon sprouting wings to soar?
Was that a metaphor?
Hey, there's a dollar store!
Look! I'm rhyming, my spirit's climbing
As I'm called through this fog of mace
To this place called Slaughter Race
Shank: Welcome back, watch your head
Hate to see you end up dead
Other: Must get this party rollin'
Vanellope: Is that appliance stolen?
Shank: We have
Other: Falling wires, dumpster fires, creepy clowns and burning tires
Shank: That great white in the sewer
You'll be happy that you knew her
Vanellope: Fin bump!
Other: Dogs and cats, they sure taste great
With a side of license plate
Some find us deplorable
Vanellope: Well, I think you're adorable!
Shank: We may be a motley crew
But our hearts ring true
Other: And, just for you, a face tattoo!
Slaughter Race
Vanellope: My heart's in flight and, wow it's a blast!
Feels like my dreams are real at last!
Shank: No trace of a frown upon your face
Vanellope: Flying so fast
Shank: Setting the pace
Vanellope: Living the life
Shank: Loving the chase
Vanellope: Now is the time
Shank: Here is the place
Shank & Vanellope: This Slaughter Race!
Vanellope: I know I should go
But home feels so slow
These roads are paved with dreams
Other: Happy dreams, not creepy clown dreams
Vanellope: What would Ralph say if it turns out I'll stay
In this place called Slaughter Race?
In this place called Slaughter Race