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Indian Car
by
Snotty Nose Rez Kids
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I remember when I got my first car out here in the city Car was just as old as I was, man But I was so proud of that shit, bro, no joke Got all my homeboys drivin' with me A little somethin' like this, check it [Young D] This remind me of my first whip '93 Honda Civic, kid I be, rollin' 5 deep, windows down a bit We just a bunch of snotty-nosed rez kids, mayne 'Cause how far we go back? Red light, green light Got a young'un almost running out of gas mayne, but I'll be alright Drive slow homie, life moves fast, don't wanna see them flashing lights Even when the car looking like trash, we be like, “Hell yeah that's my ride" Yeah, that's my ride, gotta keep it Andre 3 Stacks to the max Got the DJ in the front and the rest in the back Kicking back while the speakers on blast, uh Hotbox it up (what), my boy will pass it up Don't want my boys to gas me up If they do, then I want that shit free on tax, uh 'Cause I'm in the fast lane on the highway Late night with the pedal to the metal Ain't even thinking about a ticket Just to be safe, let's let the smoke settle We got them beats all banging We switching lanes, we swangin' And I don't see that ever changing, mayne Hell nah, 'cause we Cruisin' 'round, windows down Music loud now Rolling with them boys We the type your mama told you about We'll go that extra mile Since we was juveniles That young'un lifestyle Homie, we gon' be a while Hit the spot after dark, put it in park Let us spark, paper extra large We be on our way to Mars In my Indian Car (in my car) We just a bunch of snotty kids from the rez (yah!) Ain't got no Cadillac, my rims ain't Ds, homie Call it my Hondallac, we still burn CDs, homie But it's getting me from A to B I need change or something 'cause my tank is on E, mayne No jokin', cousin No candy paint, it's a little rusted I'm sweating bullets, my AC busted Can't speed uphill, man I wouldn't trust it Even if you crush it, but I still love it 'Cause at day's end that shit better than nothin' Would rather have that and let my tank run out Than stand down the road with my thumb all out, no doubt That's small town bullshit Ain't got shit to do with nowhere to go We riding dirty, gotta avoid the po' So we hit the back roads and drive it like a 4 by 4 Bounce with no hydraulics, though Hear the branches scrape against the windows But f*ck if I care, this car is so damn old, man For real, we park down by the ocean To spark that loud and get roasted And talk about life and embrace the moment So if I drive or sit in the passenger I'm always down to pass to ya Talk bullshit and laugh with ya 'Cause I ain't never mad at'cha when we (when we) Cruisin' 'round, windows down Music loud now Rolling with them boys We the type your mama told you about We'll go that extra mile Since we was juveniles (uh-huh) That young'un lifestyle (uh-huh) Homie, we gon' be a while (for sure) Hit the spot after dark, put it in park Let us spark, paper extra large We be on our way to Mars (for sure) In my Indian Car (in my car) We just a bunch of snotty kids from the rez (yah!) [Outro, spoken] Check it out, man Just a bunch of youn'uns out here man, who ain't got no care in the world Sometimes I feel like pullin' up and tellin' my homies to get in, and let's leave the town that's so rural 'Cause we been there and done all that shit, man, you know this small town shit can be a little cruel My tank is ready to go, let's get this show on the road and make our own rules, family You know? And that's how it go When you a young'un from the 250 In particular, the People Of The Snow Since the day I turned 16 years old, no joke Man, those were the days That's how it was for real In my Indian car In my car man, ah!
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