"Fast car" is kind of a continuation of Bruce Springsteen's "Born to Run." It has all the clawing your way to a better life, but in this case the protagonist never makes it with her love; in fact she is dragged back down by him.
There is still an amazing amount of hope and will in the lyrics; and the lyrics themselve rank and easy five. If only music was stronger it would be one of those great radio songs that you hear once a week 20 years after it was released. The imagery is almost tear-jerking ("City lights lay out before us", "Speeds so fast felt like I was drunk"), and the idea of starting from nothing and just driving and working and denigrating yourself for a chance at being just above poverty, then losing in the end is just painful and inspiring at the same time.
I wanna be the best who ever did it
Don't know if that goal is feasible, or it isn't
But if it is then God, if you're listenin'
Please grant me the strength to crush all competition
You can't blame me for dreaming, I'm a dreamer
And if I'm coming off brash please forgive me
But, that's all I want
I just wanna be the illest MC (That's all I want)
The same time being as real as can be
Mayhem, sickness, murder, horror
These are the kind of words that describe my aura
G Rap, Ras Kass, Kurupt
Redman I am cut from that cloth
Write a rhyme about me, you a dead man
Cool J, I'm Bad video
Learned the whole routine and performed it for my father's friends
While they smoked and drank
Symphony, D.O.C. inspired me to write what
Would eventually put me on airplanes like B.o.B
Canibus, Wu-Tang, you know our history but hats off
When we rap this Jack Frost we outline the track chalk
Thank God for the one-two cadence
Thank God for the lunchroom tables
I'm trying to be the sickest nigga, dead or alive
And if I happen to fall short, it's been one hell of a ride
Chronic 1 and 2, looking up at the sky at the sun
Up until the day the sun is you
You listening to hip-hop, you in Jay's house
Wayne's house, Nas' house
Em's house, Our House
So welcome, to our house
Where no one, comes back out
You won't find, comfort
In here, in here, in here
When I was a little boy I wanted to be a rapper
Wanted to be on the radio and snapping pictures after
And so I grabbed my pen and pad and scribbled chitter chatter
It started off wack
But in the words of a ten year old, my shit was getting phatter
I hit the studio at 16, stupid ill
Not knowing how the booth would feel, what's ADAT's and two inch reel
How you ad-lib? What's a punch? I ain't a boxer
But I sure enough learned the ropes, look D and Mike you made a monster
Now everyday's a game of Contra, I got 99 men
An infinite amount of rounds inside this mighty fine pen
This is my dream, don't fuck with it, I'm telling you
Cause anyone can get dusted as long as production is available
I'm disgusted as a fan, look how niggas sounding, damn
Weak head, ya'll suck bad, fuck swag and your kicks from South Japan
I'm finna to be the best in this profession
I've been invested all my life, so wipe your feet before you step in
Our house
So welcome, to our house
Where no one, comes back out
You won't find, comfort
In here, in here, in here
I wanna be the best who ever did it
Don't know if that goal is feasible, or it isn't
But if it is then God, if you're listenin'
Please grant me the strength to crush all competition
You can't blame me for dreaming, I'm a dreamer
And if I'm coming off brash please forgive me
But, that's all I want
I just wanna be the illest MC (That's all I want)
The same time being as real as can be
Yo, in my house, the lights out
No utilities in the facilities
Feeling my life's 'bout, to wipe out
These feelings I'm feeling be killing me
I pull the mic out, can't strike out
Cause if winning is really my enemy
I pull a nine out, blow my mind out
Is the end of me really serenity?
Man in my house, it's rap or die
Get a piece of that apple pie
Life is a Pharcyde song, and that bitch just passes by
So I, got lyrically complex, that way I could clock checks
Get my moms out the projects, with these concepts, competition can't digest
And then I stress cause the road is rough
I start feeling like shit's sour
The electricity in my will power could still power the twin towers
For ten hours, so send cowards
The message from Crooked I
Royce Da 5, Joe Budden, Em, Yaowa
In our, house we spit like Sig Sauers
The way I feel now I could spit for six hours
Straight, only way to be great, is to dig down,
If you can hear this sound inside my head sounds like a fucking drive-by
That's what the inside of my mind's like
Looking back on my career, even hindsight, tunnel vision, 5 mics
Never wanted that so bad well I got-ta go mad
Nomad with a notepad
Go Taz, spaz on these ho bags
That bother me, but I never wanna show that
Just don't act like it ever does
Even though you know that there will never come
A day someone blows past you, never was
Someone who's as dope as you ever was
And you hope that's, true cause the competitor in you
Couldn't let somebody be better than you
And you know that, so you don't ever hold back
What you gonna go back, to working a regular job?
Fuck that, I'm gonna go hard grab on my, gonads
Tell them fuck themselves
They call me a wigger like Renee Zell
But I raised hell like a stay-at-home dad
Rap is the only thing that I was ever really, bad to the bone at
Guess I'm similar to, gangrene when I'm, angry then I'm
Hulk Smash, so much passion but no compassion
If eyes are the windows to the soul
Then it's, broken glass and there's no trespassing
Alright now here we go
Dre stamped me now I'm stamping Yelawolf
Get ready for the most competitive
Clique in the world it's like Clash Of The Titans
I released the cracker it's time to set it again
And when it's said and it's all done
None shall ever fuck with this squadron
So come on in, at your own risk
This is (Our House) Bitch!
So welcome, to our house
Where no one, comes back out
You won't find, comfort
In here, in here, in here
Don't know if that goal is feasible, or it isn't
But if it is then God, if you're listenin'
Please grant me the strength to crush all competition
You can't blame me for dreaming, I'm a dreamer
And if I'm coming off brash please forgive me
But, that's all I want
I just wanna be the illest MC (That's all I want)
The same time being as real as can be
Mayhem, sickness, murder, horror
These are the kind of words that describe my aura
G Rap, Ras Kass, Kurupt
Redman I am cut from that cloth
Write a rhyme about me, you a dead man
Cool J, I'm Bad video
Learned the whole routine and performed it for my father's friends
While they smoked and drank
Symphony, D.O.C. inspired me to write what
Would eventually put me on airplanes like B.o.B
Canibus, Wu-Tang, you know our history but hats off
When we rap this Jack Frost we outline the track chalk
Thank God for the one-two cadence
Thank God for the lunchroom tables
I'm trying to be the sickest nigga, dead or alive
And if I happen to fall short, it's been one hell of a ride
Chronic 1 and 2, looking up at the sky at the sun
Up until the day the sun is you
You listening to hip-hop, you in Jay's house
Wayne's house, Nas' house
Em's house, Our House
So welcome, to our house
Where no one, comes back out
You won't find, comfort
In here, in here, in here
When I was a little boy I wanted to be a rapper
Wanted to be on the radio and snapping pictures after
And so I grabbed my pen and pad and scribbled chitter chatter
It started off wack
But in the words of a ten year old, my shit was getting phatter
I hit the studio at 16, stupid ill
Not knowing how the booth would feel, what's ADAT's and two inch reel
How you ad-lib? What's a punch? I ain't a boxer
But I sure enough learned the ropes, look D and Mike you made a monster
Now everyday's a game of Contra, I got 99 men
An infinite amount of rounds inside this mighty fine pen
This is my dream, don't fuck with it, I'm telling you
Cause anyone can get dusted as long as production is available
I'm disgusted as a fan, look how niggas sounding, damn
Weak head, ya'll suck bad, fuck swag and your kicks from South Japan
I'm finna to be the best in this profession
I've been invested all my life, so wipe your feet before you step in
Our house
So welcome, to our house
Where no one, comes back out
You won't find, comfort
In here, in here, in here
I wanna be the best who ever did it
Don't know if that goal is feasible, or it isn't
But if it is then God, if you're listenin'
Please grant me the strength to crush all competition
You can't blame me for dreaming, I'm a dreamer
And if I'm coming off brash please forgive me
But, that's all I want
I just wanna be the illest MC (That's all I want)
The same time being as real as can be
Yo, in my house, the lights out
No utilities in the facilities
Feeling my life's 'bout, to wipe out
These feelings I'm feeling be killing me
I pull the mic out, can't strike out
Cause if winning is really my enemy
I pull a nine out, blow my mind out
Is the end of me really serenity?
Man in my house, it's rap or die
Get a piece of that apple pie
Life is a Pharcyde song, and that bitch just passes by
So I, got lyrically complex, that way I could clock checks
Get my moms out the projects, with these concepts, competition can't digest
And then I stress cause the road is rough
I start feeling like shit's sour
The electricity in my will power could still power the twin towers
For ten hours, so send cowards
The message from Crooked I
Royce Da 5, Joe Budden, Em, Yaowa
In our, house we spit like Sig Sauers
The way I feel now I could spit for six hours
Straight, only way to be great, is to dig down,
If you can hear this sound inside my head sounds like a fucking drive-by
That's what the inside of my mind's like
Looking back on my career, even hindsight, tunnel vision, 5 mics
Never wanted that so bad well I got-ta go mad
Nomad with a notepad
Go Taz, spaz on these ho bags
That bother me, but I never wanna show that
Just don't act like it ever does
Even though you know that there will never come
A day someone blows past you, never was
Someone who's as dope as you ever was
And you hope that's, true cause the competitor in you
Couldn't let somebody be better than you
And you know that, so you don't ever hold back
What you gonna go back, to working a regular job?
Fuck that, I'm gonna go hard grab on my, gonads
Tell them fuck themselves
They call me a wigger like Renee Zell
But I raised hell like a stay-at-home dad
Rap is the only thing that I was ever really, bad to the bone at
Guess I'm similar to, gangrene when I'm, angry then I'm
Hulk Smash, so much passion but no compassion
If eyes are the windows to the soul
Then it's, broken glass and there's no trespassing
Alright now here we go
Dre stamped me now I'm stamping Yelawolf
Get ready for the most competitive
Clique in the world it's like Clash Of The Titans
I released the cracker it's time to set it again
And when it's said and it's all done
None shall ever fuck with this squadron
So come on in, at your own risk
This is (Our House) Bitch!
So welcome, to our house
Where no one, comes back out
You won't find, comfort
In here, in here, in here
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More Featured Meanings
Fast Car
Tracy Chapman
Tracy Chapman
Gentle Hour
Yo La Tengo
Yo La Tengo
This song was originally written by a guy called Peter Gutteridge. He was one of the founders of the "Dunedin Sound" a musical scene in the south of New Zealand in the early 80s. From there it was covered by "The Clean" one of the early bands of that scene (he had originally been a member of in it's early days, writing a couple of their best early songs). The Dunedin sound, and the Clean became popular on american college radio in the mid to late 80s. I guess Yo La Tengo heard that version.
Great version of a great song,
I Can't Go To Sleep
Wu-Tang Clan
Wu-Tang Clan
This song is written as the perspective of the boys in the street, as a whole, and what path they are going to choose as they get older and grow into men. (This is why the music video takes place in an orphanage.) The seen, and unseen collective suffering is imbedded in the boys’ mind, consciously or subconsciously, and is haunting them. Which path will the boys choose? Issac Hayes is the voice of reason, maybe God, the angel on his shoulder, or the voice of his forefathers from beyond the grave who can see the big picture and are pleading with the boys not to continue the violence and pattern of killing their brothers, but to rise above. The most beautiful song and has so many levels. Racism towards African Americans in America would not exist if everyone sat down and listened to this song and understood the history behind the words. The power, fear, pleading in RZA and Ghostface voices are genuine and powerful. Issac Hayes’ strong voice makes the perfect strong father figure, who is possibly from beyond the grave.
Magical
Ed Sheeran
Ed Sheeran
How would you describe the feeling of being in love? For Ed Sheeran, the word is “Magical.” in HIS three-minute album opener, he makes an attempt to capture the beauty and delicacy of true love with words. He describes the magic of it all over a bright Pop song produced by Aaron Dessner.
Page
Ed Sheeran
Ed Sheeran
There aren’t many things that’ll hurt more than giving love a chance against your better judgement only to have your heart crushed yet again. Ed Sheeran tells such a story on “Page.” On this track, he is devastated to have lost his lover and even more saddened by the feeling that he may never move on from this.
What is this on? What album
Unreleased track from "The Marshall Mathers LP" featuring Limp Bizkit.
They're enemies now. Used to be friends.
I though Eminem hated Durst
one of my favorite eminem songs
haha 2 pack shaker
Are you sure this was from the MMLP sessions? The quality and his voice make it sound like a track he would have made when he was 19-22 (you can hear it on YouTube) Either way, great song, one of his best unreleased
just to add to that, if it is Fred Durst that obviously dates it, but I really don't see any evidence that it is (either a sample or cover of the 80's song by Madness)