"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.
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw in the streets)
For the fellas on the corner posted up twenty deep
With your fifth on your hip, ready to flip
Whenever you empty your clip, dip, trip your sidekick
You got skill, your best bet is to chill
And do yourself a favor, don't come nowhere near the Hill
With that bullshit, word, money grip, it'll cost ya
Make you reminisce of Frank Nitty "The Enforcer"
I move with M.O.P.'s Last Generation (yeah)
Straight up and down, act like you want a confrontation
I packs my gat, and I got to stay strapped
I bust mines, don't try to sneak up on me from behind
Don't sleep, I get deep when I creep
I see right now, I got to show you it ain't nothin sweet
Go get your motherfuckin' hammer
And act like you want drama
I send a message to your mama
"Hello, do you know your one son left?"
I am licensed to kill and he had been marked for death
He's up the Hill in the back of the building with two in the dome
I left him stiffer than a tombstone
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it rugged in the ghetto)
I used to pack sling shots, but now I'm packin' heavy metal
A rugged underground freestyler
It's Lil' Fame, muthafucker, slap, Lil' Mallet
When I let off, it's a burning desire
Niggas increase the peace 'cause when I release it be rapid fire
For the cause, I drop niggas like drawers
Niggas'll hit the floors from the motherfuckin .44's
I'm thinkin' titles when it's showtime
Fuck around, I have niggas call the injury help line
I bust words in my words that'll serve
Even on my first nerve, I put herbs to curbs
I ain't about givin' niggas a chance
And I still raise shit that make my brother wanna get up and dance
Front, I make it a thrill to kill
Bringin' the ruckus, it's the neighborhood hoods for the Hill that's real
Me and mics hustle like niggas and dykes
So who wanna skate, cause I'm puttin niggas on ice
Whatever I drop must be rough, rugged and hard more (yeah)
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
Yo, here I am (so what up?) Get it on, cocksucker
That nigga Bill seem to be a ill black brother
I gets dough from the way I flow
And before I go
You motherfuckers gonna know
That I ain't nothin to fuck with, duck quick
I squeeze when I'm stressed
Them teflons'll tear through your vest
I love a bloodbath (niggas know the half)
You can feel the wrath (Saratoga/St. Marks Ave.)
B-I-L-L-Y D-A-N-Z-E-N-I-E
Me, Billy Danzenie
(Knock, knock) Who's there? (Lil' Fame)
Lil' Fame who? (Lil' Fame, your nigga)
Boom, ease up off the trigger
It's aight, me and shorty go to gunfights
Together we bring the ruckus, right?
We trump tight, aight?
I earned mine, so I'm entitled to a title
(7 fuckin 30) that means I'm homicidal
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
Yo, I scream on niggas like a rollercoaster
To them wack motherfuckers, go hang it up like a poster
Niggas get excited, but don't excite me
Don't invite me, I'm splittin' niggas' heads where the white be
Try to trash this, this little bastard'll blast it
Only puttin' niggas in comas and caskets
I ain't a phoney, I put the "mack" in -aroni
I leave you lonely (yeah, yeah, get on his ass, homie)
Up in your anus, I pack steel that's stainless
We came to claim this, and Lil' Fame'll make you famous
I mack hoes, rock shows and stack dough
'Cause I'm in effect, knockin' motherfuckers like five-o
I'm catchin other niggas peepin', shit, I ain't sleepin'
I roll deep like a motherfuckin Puerto-Rican
So when I write my competition looks sadly
No punk-ass niggas, I make it happen like Mariah Carey
I got shit for niggas that roll bold
Lil' Fame is like a orthopedic shoe, I got mad soul
I'ma kill 'em before I duck 'em
Because yo, mother made 'em, mother had 'em and motherfuck 'em
Knowmsayin?
Lil' Fame up in this motherfucker
Givin' shoutouts to my man DR Period
Big Kid, Lazy Laz
My man Broke Ass Moe
The whole Saratoga Ave., you know what I'm sayin'?
Representin' for Brooklyn
Most of all, my cousin Prince Leroy, Big Mal, rest in peace
Danzenie up in this motherfucker
I'd like to say what's up to the whole MOP
Brooklyn, period
Them niggas that just don't give a fuck
Bet yo' ass, nigga
Hey yo, this motherfuckin' Babyface Nelson
Aka O.G. Bu-Bang
Yo, I wanna say what's up to the whole motherfuckin' MOP, boy
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw in the streets)
For the fellas on the corner posted up twenty deep
With your fifth on your hip, ready to flip
Whenever you empty your clip, dip, trip your sidekick
You got skill, your best bet is to chill
And do yourself a favor, don't come nowhere near the Hill
With that bullshit, word, money grip, it'll cost ya
Make you reminisce of Frank Nitty "The Enforcer"
I move with M.O.P.'s Last Generation (yeah)
Straight up and down, act like you want a confrontation
I packs my gat, and I got to stay strapped
I bust mines, don't try to sneak up on me from behind
Don't sleep, I get deep when I creep
I see right now, I got to show you it ain't nothin sweet
Go get your motherfuckin' hammer
And act like you want drama
I send a message to your mama
"Hello, do you know your one son left?"
I am licensed to kill and he had been marked for death
He's up the Hill in the back of the building with two in the dome
I left him stiffer than a tombstone
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it rugged in the ghetto)
I used to pack sling shots, but now I'm packin' heavy metal
A rugged underground freestyler
It's Lil' Fame, muthafucker, slap, Lil' Mallet
When I let off, it's a burning desire
Niggas increase the peace 'cause when I release it be rapid fire
For the cause, I drop niggas like drawers
Niggas'll hit the floors from the motherfuckin .44's
I'm thinkin' titles when it's showtime
Fuck around, I have niggas call the injury help line
I bust words in my words that'll serve
Even on my first nerve, I put herbs to curbs
I ain't about givin' niggas a chance
And I still raise shit that make my brother wanna get up and dance
Front, I make it a thrill to kill
Bringin' the ruckus, it's the neighborhood hoods for the Hill that's real
Me and mics hustle like niggas and dykes
So who wanna skate, cause I'm puttin niggas on ice
Whatever I drop must be rough, rugged and hard more (yeah)
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
Yo, here I am (so what up?) Get it on, cocksucker
That nigga Bill seem to be a ill black brother
I gets dough from the way I flow
And before I go
You motherfuckers gonna know
That I ain't nothin to fuck with, duck quick
I squeeze when I'm stressed
Them teflons'll tear through your vest
I love a bloodbath (niggas know the half)
You can feel the wrath (Saratoga/St. Marks Ave.)
B-I-L-L-Y D-A-N-Z-E-N-I-E
Me, Billy Danzenie
(Knock, knock) Who's there? (Lil' Fame)
Lil' Fame who? (Lil' Fame, your nigga)
Boom, ease up off the trigger
It's aight, me and shorty go to gunfights
Together we bring the ruckus, right?
We trump tight, aight?
I earned mine, so I'm entitled to a title
(7 fuckin 30) that means I'm homicidal
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
How about some hardcore? (Yeah, we like it raw)
Yo, I scream on niggas like a rollercoaster
To them wack motherfuckers, go hang it up like a poster
Niggas get excited, but don't excite me
Don't invite me, I'm splittin' niggas' heads where the white be
Try to trash this, this little bastard'll blast it
Only puttin' niggas in comas and caskets
I ain't a phoney, I put the "mack" in -aroni
I leave you lonely (yeah, yeah, get on his ass, homie)
Up in your anus, I pack steel that's stainless
We came to claim this, and Lil' Fame'll make you famous
I mack hoes, rock shows and stack dough
'Cause I'm in effect, knockin' motherfuckers like five-o
I'm catchin other niggas peepin', shit, I ain't sleepin'
I roll deep like a motherfuckin Puerto-Rican
So when I write my competition looks sadly
No punk-ass niggas, I make it happen like Mariah Carey
I got shit for niggas that roll bold
Lil' Fame is like a orthopedic shoe, I got mad soul
I'ma kill 'em before I duck 'em
Because yo, mother made 'em, mother had 'em and motherfuck 'em
Knowmsayin?
Lil' Fame up in this motherfucker
Givin' shoutouts to my man DR Period
Big Kid, Lazy Laz
My man Broke Ass Moe
The whole Saratoga Ave., you know what I'm sayin'?
Representin' for Brooklyn
Most of all, my cousin Prince Leroy, Big Mal, rest in peace
Danzenie up in this motherfucker
I'd like to say what's up to the whole MOP
Brooklyn, period
Them niggas that just don't give a fuck
Bet yo' ass, nigga
Hey yo, this motherfuckin' Babyface Nelson
Aka O.G. Bu-Bang
Yo, I wanna say what's up to the whole motherfuckin' MOP, boy
Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings
How About Some Hardcore Lyrics as written by Eric Murry D Pittman
Lyrics © Royalty Network, Spirit Music Group
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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