Indian Car

[Intro]
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

[Verse 1: 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

[Chorus: Yung Trybez]
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!)

[Verse 2]
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 fuck 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)

[Chorus: Yung Trybez]
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!