"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.
Yeah, them niggas talking bout y'all always want some lyrics, right?
Real lyrics, well here we go, I'm a tell you a little story
That's right, watch this shit, nigga, here we go, y'all, your ass
Yeah, we write for days, hot shit, uh-huh
Dope, drugs, sex, murder, King James version
Aiyo, needle was left hanging, in the arm of a pimp
He walk with a limp, had bitches on the payroll
He gave the seeds candy and his family was poor
Drove a '68 Caddy with the fur on the door
The other macks ain't have jack on him, not even Goldie
Slowly, he would rise, kept his runners with the police
Jim Brown was his man, his brother was Muslim, they tried to convert him
And turn righteous, but the streets got the good of him
Big hats with gorgeous stones, honey designed the slacks
With two attempts on his bottom bitch, her name was Precious
Silky skin, priceless pussy, she took karate
Her bubble ass got Pretty Chipp rich
You can smell her perfume on every street corner
A sexy motherfucka with the mean face on her
Precious, sported bulletproof dresses, defending caring sex
Thirteen smith, this boo that study her lessons
She was the key to Pretty Chipp riches, bitches is fortune slang
Control the south side, her name rings
Lookout for the black cherry pussy extortion
Any other hoes get pregnant, bet they get an abortion
Back at the pub, at the Alice spot, bumping the sounds of Curtis
Playing Live in the jukebox, this broad named Cookie
In the purse, fifty thou' in cash
Passed off to Chipp, told him count it fast, another 10 in my bloomers
Fuck the rumors, it's lies, baby, you my daddy
Bitches never saw me jumping out of Dirt Dog's cabby
I'm a loyal bitch, and chicks can't stand me, pimps
They know I'm ill, that's why they never put hands on me
From Fillmore Slim to Goldie, Pretty Toney
Frank War told me, C.C. get that money
My potentials, credentials, my mouth stay hot
Like Chinese mushrooms, wasabi with spicy lentils
The other day I brought a little gat, where I keep near my lower back
Cause these niggas don't know how to act
At the Apollo, Ray Charles told me
Bitch just get in the car, cuz I want you to swallow
I jumped in, and his bodyguards follow
He was quick, I spit the nut on his '74 wallos
He wanted to invite me to Chicago, I said 'nah, daddy'
He pushed me out and lit up a Marlboro
(Nah, papi) Cause I'm from New York
He taught me the talks, he taught me the walk
Cause I'm Chipp's bitch, we dine and resort
Only nigga ever taught me, don't put swine on my fork
And that's the truth, rest in peace, papi
This Cookie, I still got another tall Goose for you daddy
I'm a stick in the grave for you, baby
Fuck them other pimps, they ain't got shit on you, daddy
Real lyrics, well here we go, I'm a tell you a little story
That's right, watch this shit, nigga, here we go, y'all, your ass
Yeah, we write for days, hot shit, uh-huh
Dope, drugs, sex, murder, King James version
Aiyo, needle was left hanging, in the arm of a pimp
He walk with a limp, had bitches on the payroll
He gave the seeds candy and his family was poor
Drove a '68 Caddy with the fur on the door
The other macks ain't have jack on him, not even Goldie
Slowly, he would rise, kept his runners with the police
Jim Brown was his man, his brother was Muslim, they tried to convert him
And turn righteous, but the streets got the good of him
Big hats with gorgeous stones, honey designed the slacks
With two attempts on his bottom bitch, her name was Precious
Silky skin, priceless pussy, she took karate
Her bubble ass got Pretty Chipp rich
You can smell her perfume on every street corner
A sexy motherfucka with the mean face on her
Precious, sported bulletproof dresses, defending caring sex
Thirteen smith, this boo that study her lessons
She was the key to Pretty Chipp riches, bitches is fortune slang
Control the south side, her name rings
Lookout for the black cherry pussy extortion
Any other hoes get pregnant, bet they get an abortion
Back at the pub, at the Alice spot, bumping the sounds of Curtis
Playing Live in the jukebox, this broad named Cookie
In the purse, fifty thou' in cash
Passed off to Chipp, told him count it fast, another 10 in my bloomers
Fuck the rumors, it's lies, baby, you my daddy
Bitches never saw me jumping out of Dirt Dog's cabby
I'm a loyal bitch, and chicks can't stand me, pimps
They know I'm ill, that's why they never put hands on me
From Fillmore Slim to Goldie, Pretty Toney
Frank War told me, C.C. get that money
My potentials, credentials, my mouth stay hot
Like Chinese mushrooms, wasabi with spicy lentils
The other day I brought a little gat, where I keep near my lower back
Cause these niggas don't know how to act
At the Apollo, Ray Charles told me
Bitch just get in the car, cuz I want you to swallow
I jumped in, and his bodyguards follow
He was quick, I spit the nut on his '74 wallos
He wanted to invite me to Chicago, I said 'nah, daddy'
He pushed me out and lit up a Marlboro
(Nah, papi) Cause I'm from New York
He taught me the talks, he taught me the walk
Cause I'm Chipp's bitch, we dine and resort
Only nigga ever taught me, don't put swine on my fork
And that's the truth, rest in peace, papi
This Cookie, I still got another tall Goose for you daddy
I'm a stick in the grave for you, baby
Fuck them other pimps, they ain't got shit on you, daddy
Lyrics submitted by Mellow_Harsher
Pimpin' Chipp Lyrics as written by Emile Haynie Dennis Coles
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Spirit Music Group
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
Add your thoughts
Log in now to tell us what you think this song means.
Don’t have an account? Create an account with SongMeanings to post comments, submit lyrics, and more. It’s super easy, we promise!
More Featured Meanings
Fast Car
Tracy Chapman
Tracy Chapman
Bron-Y-Aur Stomp
Led Zeppelin
Led Zeppelin
This is about bronies. They communicate by stomping.
I Can't Go To Sleep
Wu-Tang Clan
Wu-Tang Clan
This song is written as the perspective of the boys in the street, as a whole, and what path they are going to choose as they get older and grow into men. (This is why the music video takes place in an orphanage.) The seen, and unseen collective suffering is imbedded in the boys’ mind, consciously or subconsciously, and is haunting them. Which path will the boys choose? Issac Hayes is the voice of reason, maybe God, the angel on his shoulder, or the voice of his forefathers from beyond the grave who can see the big picture and are pleading with the boys not to continue the violence and pattern of killing their brothers, but to rise above. The most beautiful song and has so many levels. Racism towards African Americans in America would not exist if everyone sat down and listened to this song and understood the history behind the words. The power, fear, pleading in RZA and Ghostface voices are genuine and powerful. Issac Hayes’ strong voice makes the perfect strong father figure, who is possibly from beyond the grave.
American Town
Ed Sheeran
Ed Sheeran
Ed Sheeran shares a short story of reconnecting with an old flame on “American Town.” The track is about a holiday Ed Sheeran spends with his countrywoman who resides in America. The two are back together after a long period apart, and get around to enjoying a bunch of fun activities while rekindling the flames of their romance.
Plastic Bag
Ed Sheeran
Ed Sheeran
“Plastic Bag” is a song about searching for an escape from personal problems and hoping to find it in the lively atmosphere of a Saturday night party. Ed Sheeran tells the story of his friend and the myriad of troubles he is going through. Unable to find any solutions, this friend seeks a last resort in a party and the vanity that comes with it.
“I overthink and have trouble sleepin’ / All purpose gone and don’t have a reason / And there’s no doctor to stop this bleedin’ / So I left home and jumped in the deep end,” Ed Sheeran sings in verse one. He continues by adding that this person is feeling the weight of having disappointed his father and doesn’t have any friends to rely on in this difficult moment. In the second verse, Ed sings about the role of grief in his friend’s plight and his dwindling faith in prayer. “Saturday night is givin’ me a reason to rely on the strobe lights / The lifeline of a promise in a shot glass, and I’ll take that / If you’re givin’ out love from a plastic bag,” Ed sings on the chorus, as his friend turns to new vices in hopes of feeling better.