"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.
StreetLife(2001) Part One
See Ima StreetLife souljah steady mobbin the streets-I pacc a heat cuz there's no peace-on every corner of my street-see I ride through the night-guided by the moonlight-like a flower needs the sun to grow I need the street lights-wanted dead or alive-high until I die-and I ride with the StreetLights shining in my eyes- Ima StreetLife Souljah steady mobbin the streets 4x's
I twist the top off the bottle I take a sip of the drank-I let the liquor ease the pain and the clouded madness in my brain-everyday I wake up with the same thought running thru my mind-will I live to see tomorrow or will I die in the streetlights-running around the clock 24-7 gripping my Smith N Wesson-a little bad ass adolescent-grew up a menace-in the times of depression- & oppression-I struggle-to stacc a bundle-off of quater P's I bubble-flipping shit like pancakes searching for the daily double-I'm nothing but trouble-chunkin em with Gorillas in the jungle-first to cracc off a rumble-with a fist full of brass knuckles-feel the bone crumble-I tussle-niggas I serve and watch em stumble-feel they knees buckle-fall to the floor like a football fumble-now they snooze in a red puddle-it's so hard to be humble-when every minute of the day it's a struggle-ain't no puzzle-that's why Ima peepin out the world thru my gunscope-I keep a heat in my possesion everytime when I mob the streets-a glocc 17 tucced in my creased baggy jeans-it's like I got a disease-I'm infected with Rabies-My Life Is Crazy-walking the Devil's flaming tightrope on the daily-I got more heat then Hades-ask them niggas that pushing up Daisy's-the Feds they hate me-they try to raid me-and frame me-but I won't let it make or break me-don't trust no one only my 380 cuz she's my lady-see Ima military minded Souljah-when I run up on ya-bet my barrels longer-snakes try to push me in a corna-I'm being stalked by Alley Vultures dressed up in disguised-plotting on my homicide-& demise-I can read it in they eyes-I feel a chill & tingle in my spine-cuz I know that they close-keep my hand glued to my nine-wherever I go-busting lics in the moonlight-live and die in the streetlights-I gave my heart and soul to the StreetLife-
See Ima StreetLife souljah steady mobbin the streets-I pacc a heat cuz there's no peace-on every corner of my street-see I ride through the night-guided by the moonlight-like a flower needs the sun to grow I need the street lights-wanted dead or alive-high until I die-and I ride with the StreetLights shining in my eyes- Ima StreetLife Souljah steady mobbin the streets 4x's
I twist the top off the bottle I take a sip of the drank-I let the liquor ease the pain and the clouded madness in my brain-everyday I wake up with the same thought running thru my mind-will I live to see tomorrow or will I die in the streetlights-running around the clock 24-7 gripping my Smith N Wesson-a little bad ass adolescent-grew up a menace-in the times of depression- & oppression-I struggle-to stacc a bundle-off of quater P's I bubble-flipping shit like pancakes searching for the daily double-I'm nothing but trouble-chunkin em with Gorillas in the jungle-first to cracc off a rumble-with a fist full of brass knuckles-feel the bone crumble-I tussle-niggas I serve and watch em stumble-feel they knees buckle-fall to the floor like a football fumble-now they snooze in a red puddle-it's so hard to be humble-when every minute of the day it's a struggle-ain't no puzzle-that's why Ima peepin out the world thru my gunscope-I keep a heat in my possesion everytime when I mob the streets-a glocc 17 tucced in my creased baggy jeans-it's like I got a disease-I'm infected with Rabies-My Life Is Crazy-walking the Devil's flaming tightrope on the daily-I got more heat then Hades-ask them niggas that pushing up Daisy's-the Feds they hate me-they try to raid me-and frame me-but I won't let it make or break me-don't trust no one only my 380 cuz she's my lady-see Ima military minded Souljah-when I run up on ya-bet my barrels longer-snakes try to push me in a corna-I'm being stalked by Alley Vultures dressed up in disguised-plotting on my homicide-& demise-I can read it in they eyes-I feel a chill & tingle in my spine-cuz I know that they close-keep my hand glued to my nine-wherever I go-busting lics in the moonlight-live and die in the streetlights-I gave my heart and soul to the StreetLife-
Lyrics submitted by KRC-Roseland Ent-The Pac-Planet9
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