"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.
Is an MC far-sighted, far-off,
far-fetched or far-reaching?
Stop spitting that self-possessed shit
and start teaching
It's never too late to turn the car around
screeching tyres speak of pious liars
preaching bias
it's time to count your blessings
and calculate your trials
I no longer have to hear shit
I'm coughing after a fierce hit
I sit with the red-headed girl with the pierced tit and a dimple on her cheek
You seem a bit simple when you speak
You should try not to believe
everything you read
before you bring new seed to this world
where girls share tips on curled hair
and the Nature's ailing
Your celly and your pagers failing
to receive the Vital
"How does Young America perceive the Idol?"
Is he omnipotent, omniscient
and present at all times?
Is he a mid-wife or a medium of
what we call rhymes?
"How does Young Finland perceive the Idol?"
Is He a true leader
or just an idle title in a magazine headline
smoking sponsorship cancersticks
and sipping back on redwine
join me in bed
Nine different ways to cheat at Solitaire
88 possible combinations
that result in landing that solid air
American foreign politics have moved
from cultural imperialism to Globalization
hundreds of millions of lost souls turn to me hopin' I saves 'em
but Why bother using my Mic time wisely?
Why be Gil-Scott Heron, when I can be Ron Isley?
(Precisely! Most of yawl listen to my shit only 'cos it sounds phat, anyhow.)
My material is in no way straight
over-weight conducted at a slower rate
but it's politically obese
I polish the Polish Police and let my soul ease
No lease-based deals, please
just Truth Vomiting
omitting to the highest bidding
MC's need new pastimes
How about sitting unattached and still for hours
knitting a patchwork quilt for cowards
wond'ring what your Life
as a never-was MC devoured?
It's not all Black and White
there's patches of Gray
No need to attack and fight
my stee matches your Way
Who catches more play on the matress you lay?
Melting through
like hot water poured on Statues of Clay
You'll get your raw share
if you treat the Law fair
and actively forget everything you saw there
biochemical warfare, ah-yeah
socio-political espresso enemas for an encore
where you left me was a lose-lose situation
landing in th middle of a church leaving the concgregation standing
the conversation ending
I burned heads
like an orientation camp branding iron
I see Good Reverend Abbot handing
Byron a plaque at the Poet's Corner
show 3 in hand while I attack from the poet's Sauna 03 FINLAND Style
Fill the bucket, throw some water
on the rocks and perspire
fuck it! that's an order,
I'll burn your rhymes in the fire
I gave you a chance two separate times
now you calling me a Liar
well, at least I rock a Symbolical Umbilical you at the end of a wire
far-fetched or far-reaching?
Stop spitting that self-possessed shit
and start teaching
It's never too late to turn the car around
screeching tyres speak of pious liars
preaching bias
it's time to count your blessings
and calculate your trials
I no longer have to hear shit
I'm coughing after a fierce hit
I sit with the red-headed girl with the pierced tit and a dimple on her cheek
You seem a bit simple when you speak
You should try not to believe
everything you read
before you bring new seed to this world
where girls share tips on curled hair
and the Nature's ailing
Your celly and your pagers failing
to receive the Vital
"How does Young America perceive the Idol?"
Is he omnipotent, omniscient
and present at all times?
Is he a mid-wife or a medium of
what we call rhymes?
"How does Young Finland perceive the Idol?"
Is He a true leader
or just an idle title in a magazine headline
smoking sponsorship cancersticks
and sipping back on redwine
join me in bed
Nine different ways to cheat at Solitaire
88 possible combinations
that result in landing that solid air
American foreign politics have moved
from cultural imperialism to Globalization
hundreds of millions of lost souls turn to me hopin' I saves 'em
but Why bother using my Mic time wisely?
Why be Gil-Scott Heron, when I can be Ron Isley?
(Precisely! Most of yawl listen to my shit only 'cos it sounds phat, anyhow.)
My material is in no way straight
over-weight conducted at a slower rate
but it's politically obese
I polish the Polish Police and let my soul ease
No lease-based deals, please
just Truth Vomiting
omitting to the highest bidding
MC's need new pastimes
How about sitting unattached and still for hours
knitting a patchwork quilt for cowards
wond'ring what your Life
as a never-was MC devoured?
It's not all Black and White
there's patches of Gray
No need to attack and fight
my stee matches your Way
Who catches more play on the matress you lay?
Melting through
like hot water poured on Statues of Clay
You'll get your raw share
if you treat the Law fair
and actively forget everything you saw there
biochemical warfare, ah-yeah
socio-political espresso enemas for an encore
where you left me was a lose-lose situation
landing in th middle of a church leaving the concgregation standing
the conversation ending
I burned heads
like an orientation camp branding iron
I see Good Reverend Abbot handing
Byron a plaque at the Poet's Corner
show 3 in hand while I attack from the poet's Sauna 03 FINLAND Style
Fill the bucket, throw some water
on the rocks and perspire
fuck it! that's an order,
I'll burn your rhymes in the fire
I gave you a chance two separate times
now you calling me a Liar
well, at least I rock a Symbolical Umbilical you at the end of a wire
Lyrics submitted by sakebox
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