"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.
Uh, uh, uh, 1-2, 1-2
Uh, uh, 1-2, 1-2, uh, uh
All my dogs, 1-2, 1-2
It's bigger than hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, hip
It's bigger than hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, uh
One thing 'bout music when it hit you feel no pain
White folks say it controls your brain
I know better than that, that's game
Man, we ready for that
Two soldiers, head of the pack
Matter fact, who got the gat?
And where my army at?
Rather attack and not react
Back to beats, it don't reflect on how many records get sold
On sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll
Whether your project's put on hold
In the real world, these just people with ideas
They just like me and you when the smoke and cameras disappear
Again the real world, it's bigger than all these fake ass records
When poor folks got the millions and my woman's disrespected
If you check 1-2, my word of advice to you is just relax
Just do what you got to do, if that don't work then kick the facts
If you a fighter, rider, biter, flame-ignitor, crowd-exciter
Or you wanna just get high, then just say it
But then if you a liar-liar, pants on fire, wolf-crier, agent with a wire
I'm gon' know it when I play it
It's bigger than hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, hip
It's bigger than hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, uh
Who shot Biggie Smalls? If we don't get them, they gon' get us all
I'm down for runnin' up on them crackers in they city hall
We ride for y'all, all my dogs stay real
Nigga, don't think these record deals gon' feed your seeds
And pay your bills, because they not
MC's get a little bit of love and think they hot
Talkin' 'bout how much money they got
Nigga, all y'all records sound the same
I'm sick of that fake thug, R&B-rap scenario, all day on the radio
Same scenes in the video, monotonous material
Y'all don't here me though
These record labels slang our tapes like dope
You can be next in line and signed and still be writing rhymes and broke
You would rather have a Lexus or justice, a dream or some substance?
A Beamer, a necklace, or freedom
Still a nigga like me don't player-hate, I just stay awake
This real hip-hop and it don't stop
'Til we get the po-po off the block, they call it
Hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, hip
It's bigger than hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, hip
It's bigger than hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, hip
It's bigger than hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop
DP's got that crazy shit, we keep it crunker
John Blaze-in' shit (what?)
DP's got that crazy shit, we keep it crunker
John Blaze-in' shit (what a nigga wanna do?)
DP's got that crazy shit, we keep it crunker
John Blaze-in' shit (1-2, 1-2)
DP's got that crazy shit, we keep it crunker
John Blaze-in' shit
DP's got that crazy shit, we keep it crunker
They call it
Fake (fake) records (records)
Uh, uh, 1-2, 1-2, uh, uh
All my dogs, 1-2, 1-2
It's bigger than hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, hip
It's bigger than hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, uh
One thing 'bout music when it hit you feel no pain
White folks say it controls your brain
I know better than that, that's game
Man, we ready for that
Two soldiers, head of the pack
Matter fact, who got the gat?
And where my army at?
Rather attack and not react
Back to beats, it don't reflect on how many records get sold
On sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll
Whether your project's put on hold
In the real world, these just people with ideas
They just like me and you when the smoke and cameras disappear
Again the real world, it's bigger than all these fake ass records
When poor folks got the millions and my woman's disrespected
If you check 1-2, my word of advice to you is just relax
Just do what you got to do, if that don't work then kick the facts
If you a fighter, rider, biter, flame-ignitor, crowd-exciter
Or you wanna just get high, then just say it
But then if you a liar-liar, pants on fire, wolf-crier, agent with a wire
I'm gon' know it when I play it
It's bigger than hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, hip
It's bigger than hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, uh
Who shot Biggie Smalls? If we don't get them, they gon' get us all
I'm down for runnin' up on them crackers in they city hall
We ride for y'all, all my dogs stay real
Nigga, don't think these record deals gon' feed your seeds
And pay your bills, because they not
MC's get a little bit of love and think they hot
Talkin' 'bout how much money they got
Nigga, all y'all records sound the same
I'm sick of that fake thug, R&B-rap scenario, all day on the radio
Same scenes in the video, monotonous material
Y'all don't here me though
These record labels slang our tapes like dope
You can be next in line and signed and still be writing rhymes and broke
You would rather have a Lexus or justice, a dream or some substance?
A Beamer, a necklace, or freedom
Still a nigga like me don't player-hate, I just stay awake
This real hip-hop and it don't stop
'Til we get the po-po off the block, they call it
Hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, hip
It's bigger than hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, hip
It's bigger than hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, hip
It's bigger than hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop
DP's got that crazy shit, we keep it crunker
John Blaze-in' shit (what?)
DP's got that crazy shit, we keep it crunker
John Blaze-in' shit (what a nigga wanna do?)
DP's got that crazy shit, we keep it crunker
John Blaze-in' shit (1-2, 1-2)
DP's got that crazy shit, we keep it crunker
John Blaze-in' shit
DP's got that crazy shit, we keep it crunker
They call it
Fake (fake) records (records)
Lyrics submitted by the_king_in_yellow
Hip-Hop Lyrics as written by Gavin Clayton Andrew Mair
Lyrics © Royalty Network, Songtrust Ave
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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Fast Car
Tracy Chapman
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Yo La Tengo
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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,
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American Town
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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.
You would rather have a Lexus or justice? A dream or some substance? A Beamer, a necklace or freedom?
Says everything alot of those bullshit mainstream rappers need to hear (Ja Rule Nelly Chingy etc I'm looking at you).