"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.
Damn.
I'm broke.
My feet hurt.
(Inside the mind of a car jacker)
And that bitch is slippin'.
It makes me wanna, creep.
It makes me wanna, creep.
Damn I'm such a G it's pathetic
Here comes the big headed
Nigga that's dippin'
Sippin' on Courvoisier
Goddamn I must havta floss today
Now pimpin' ain't easy but it's necessary
So I'm chasin' bitches like Tom chased Jerry
I'll put the pedal to the flo-uh
In my two-tone Ford Explo-uh
You know how it's done
Sounds bumpin
Ain't that somethin'?
Jumped on the 110
She's flyin' in the Blazer
Like "Go Speed Racer"
But I ain't gonna chase her
Like Racer X
But I won't flex
Til it's time to have sex
So when you want to get together?
Cause you know a nigga like me
Is down for whatever
And I'm down for whatever
When I was little I didn't want to be like Mike
I wanted to be like Ike
Cause
Papa Was A Rolling Stone in the sixties
And he liked green like Bill Bixby
Told me that my best friend was a ten and a twenty
Pokets never skinny
Played let's get it on in the living room
And hwne he gets drunk you better give him room
Cause he'll turn the party out sayin', "This is my motherfuckin' house"
And y'all gots to go
Through the door
And if you can't find the door
He'll help you with the four-four
Talkin' much shit on the grass
And straight down to blast
I'm still in my p.j.'s
He's in a turtleneck sweater
And we down for whatever
And I'm down
Solid Pro is down for whatever
The Don Jaguar is down for whatever
And it don't seem to stop
Now
I don't talk a lot of shit
But when it's time to get busy with these hos, let's go
Cause I'd rather see a skinhead dead
Then my niggas wearin' blue or red
Cause I got the gift
To hit these hos swift
And I'm smellin' like a fifth
Of somethin'
Yeah, that's right
I'm standin' in the store
Koreans
Act so nice
Cause I got potentials to blow up a Winchells
Doughnut
And you know what?
I'm Cool Like That like Digable Planets
But don't take a nigga for granted
Cause whether it's a verdict of the L.A. four
You just don't know
That this rappin'-ass nigga will change with the weather
And be down for whatever
And I'm down
Creep.
And I'm down for whatever
Ice Cube, devoid of pop
And I will never dance for you trick-ass niggas
It makes me wanna, creep.
It makes me wanna, creep.
I'm broke.
My feet hurt.
(Inside the mind of a car jacker)
And that bitch is slippin'.
It makes me wanna, creep.
It makes me wanna, creep.
Damn I'm such a G it's pathetic
Here comes the big headed
Nigga that's dippin'
Sippin' on Courvoisier
Goddamn I must havta floss today
Now pimpin' ain't easy but it's necessary
So I'm chasin' bitches like Tom chased Jerry
I'll put the pedal to the flo-uh
In my two-tone Ford Explo-uh
You know how it's done
Sounds bumpin
Ain't that somethin'?
Jumped on the 110
She's flyin' in the Blazer
Like "Go Speed Racer"
But I ain't gonna chase her
Like Racer X
But I won't flex
Til it's time to have sex
So when you want to get together?
Cause you know a nigga like me
Is down for whatever
And I'm down for whatever
When I was little I didn't want to be like Mike
I wanted to be like Ike
Cause
Papa Was A Rolling Stone in the sixties
And he liked green like Bill Bixby
Told me that my best friend was a ten and a twenty
Pokets never skinny
Played let's get it on in the living room
And hwne he gets drunk you better give him room
Cause he'll turn the party out sayin', "This is my motherfuckin' house"
And y'all gots to go
Through the door
And if you can't find the door
He'll help you with the four-four
Talkin' much shit on the grass
And straight down to blast
I'm still in my p.j.'s
He's in a turtleneck sweater
And we down for whatever
And I'm down
Solid Pro is down for whatever
The Don Jaguar is down for whatever
And it don't seem to stop
Now
I don't talk a lot of shit
But when it's time to get busy with these hos, let's go
Cause I'd rather see a skinhead dead
Then my niggas wearin' blue or red
Cause I got the gift
To hit these hos swift
And I'm smellin' like a fifth
Of somethin'
Yeah, that's right
I'm standin' in the store
Koreans
Act so nice
Cause I got potentials to blow up a Winchells
Doughnut
And you know what?
I'm Cool Like That like Digable Planets
But don't take a nigga for granted
Cause whether it's a verdict of the L.A. four
You just don't know
That this rappin'-ass nigga will change with the weather
And be down for whatever
And I'm down
Creep.
And I'm down for whatever
Ice Cube, devoid of pop
And I will never dance for you trick-ass niggas
It makes me wanna, creep.
It makes me wanna, creep.
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