"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.
[Verse 1]
Yeah nigga, Immortal Technique, metaphysics
The bling-bling era was cute but it's about to be done
I leave ya full of clipse like the moon blocking the sun
my metaphors are dirty like herpes but harder to catch
like an escape tunnel in prison I started from scratch
and now these parasites wanna prosenna my asscap
trying to control perspective like an acid flashback
but here's a quotable for every single record exec
get your fucking hands out my pocket nigga like Malcolm X
but this ain't a movie, I'm not a fan or a groupie
and I'm not that type of cat, you can afford to miss if you shoot me
curse to heavens and laugh when the sky electrocutes me
Immortal Technique stuck in your thoughts darkening dreams
no ones as good as good as me, they just got better marketing schemes
I leave ya to your own destruction like sparking a fiend
cuz you got jealousy in ya voice like star scream
and that's the primary reason that I hate ya faggots
I've been nice since niggaz got killed over 8-ball jackets
and Reebok Pumps that didn’t do shit for the sneaker
I'm a heatseaker with features that'll reach through the speaker
and murder counter revolutionaries personally
break a thermometer and force feed his kids mercury
ANR's try jerking me thinking they call shots
offered me a deal and a blanket full of small pocks
your all getting shot, you little fucking treacherous bitches
[Hook]
This is the business, and ya'll ain't getting nothing for free
and if you devils play broke, then I'm taking your company
you can call it reparations or restitution
lock and load nigga, industrial revolution
[Verse 2]
I want fifty three million dollars for my collar stand
like the Bush administration gave to the Taliban
and fuck packing grams nigga, learn to speak and behave
you wanna spend twenty years as a government slave
two million people in prison keep the government paid
stuck in a six block eight cell alive in the grave
i was made by revolution to speak to the masses
deep in the club toast the truth, reach for your classes
I burn an orphanage just to bring heat to you bastards
innocent deep in a casket, Columbian fashion
intoxicated off the flow like thugs passion
you motherfuckers will never get me to stop blastin'
your better off asking Ariel Sharon for compassion
your better off banging for twenty points for a label
your better off battling cancer under telephone cables
Technique chemically unstable, set to explode
foretold by the dead sea scrolls written in codes
so if your message ain't shit, fuck the records you sold
cuz if you go platinum, it's got nothing to do with luck
it just means that a million people are stupid as fuck
stuck in the underground in general and rose to the limit
without distribution managers, a deal, or a gimmick
Revolutionary Volume 2, murder the critics
and leave your fucking body rotten for the roaches and crickets
[Hook]
Yeah nigga, Immortal Technique, metaphysics
The bling-bling era was cute but it's about to be done
I leave ya full of clipse like the moon blocking the sun
my metaphors are dirty like herpes but harder to catch
like an escape tunnel in prison I started from scratch
and now these parasites wanna prosenna my asscap
trying to control perspective like an acid flashback
but here's a quotable for every single record exec
get your fucking hands out my pocket nigga like Malcolm X
but this ain't a movie, I'm not a fan or a groupie
and I'm not that type of cat, you can afford to miss if you shoot me
curse to heavens and laugh when the sky electrocutes me
Immortal Technique stuck in your thoughts darkening dreams
no ones as good as good as me, they just got better marketing schemes
I leave ya to your own destruction like sparking a fiend
cuz you got jealousy in ya voice like star scream
and that's the primary reason that I hate ya faggots
I've been nice since niggaz got killed over 8-ball jackets
and Reebok Pumps that didn’t do shit for the sneaker
I'm a heatseaker with features that'll reach through the speaker
and murder counter revolutionaries personally
break a thermometer and force feed his kids mercury
ANR's try jerking me thinking they call shots
offered me a deal and a blanket full of small pocks
your all getting shot, you little fucking treacherous bitches
[Hook]
This is the business, and ya'll ain't getting nothing for free
and if you devils play broke, then I'm taking your company
you can call it reparations or restitution
lock and load nigga, industrial revolution
[Verse 2]
I want fifty three million dollars for my collar stand
like the Bush administration gave to the Taliban
and fuck packing grams nigga, learn to speak and behave
you wanna spend twenty years as a government slave
two million people in prison keep the government paid
stuck in a six block eight cell alive in the grave
i was made by revolution to speak to the masses
deep in the club toast the truth, reach for your classes
I burn an orphanage just to bring heat to you bastards
innocent deep in a casket, Columbian fashion
intoxicated off the flow like thugs passion
you motherfuckers will never get me to stop blastin'
your better off asking Ariel Sharon for compassion
your better off banging for twenty points for a label
your better off battling cancer under telephone cables
Technique chemically unstable, set to explode
foretold by the dead sea scrolls written in codes
so if your message ain't shit, fuck the records you sold
cuz if you go platinum, it's got nothing to do with luck
it just means that a million people are stupid as fuck
stuck in the underground in general and rose to the limit
without distribution managers, a deal, or a gimmick
Revolutionary Volume 2, murder the critics
and leave your fucking body rotten for the roaches and crickets
[Hook]
Lyrics submitted by synapseTOsynapse
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Great version of a great song,
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not a big rap fan... but this is genius immortal technique is genius.
"your better off asking Ariel Sharon for compassion your better off banging for twenty points for a label your better off battling cancer under telephone cables Technique chemically unstable, set to explode foretold by the dead sea scrolls written in codes so if your message ain't shit, fuck the records you sold cuz if you go platinum, it's got nothing to do with luck it just means that a million people are stupid as fuck stuck in the underground in general and rose to the limit without distribution managers, a deal, or a gimmick Revolutionary Volume 2, murder the critics and leave your fucking body rotten for the roaches and crickets"
thats my favorite part of the song... pure genius