You pull up to the red light; all you can hear are the sounds of loud exhaust and the deafening drone of a bass system. You glance to your right and sitting next to you is a kid just like yourself, sitting low to the ground in his "customized" little import car. You feel your palms start to sweat as you slowly let your foot off the clutch. The smell of burnt rubber becomes apparent as you begin to max out each and every gear now doing almost double the speed limit. This is the rush that young and old alike look for in street racing. …
