Lyrics Watsky – Pumped Up Kicks Remix

I’ve been on the blacktop
Steady throwing elbows
Ever since I was was in corduroys and velcros
Ever since you did your impression of Melrose

Robert’s got a quick hand
He’ll look around the room, he won’t tell you his plan
He’s got a rolled cigarette
Hanging out his mouth, he’s a cowboy kid
Yeah, he found a six-shooter gun
In his dad’s closet with a box of fun things
And I don’t even know what
But he’s coming for you, yeah, he’s coming for you, wait

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks

At Buena Vista elementary in second grade
One whistle is when recess ends
Two whistles is an earthquake drill
Three means every kid better hit the deck
Unless you want to catch a stray bullet or a ricochet from a fight across the chainlink fence
I know that I don’t look it but grew up in the middle of the city where only the quick make friends
A kid in Frisco
navigating Lombard
no On Star
I’m on BART
no lawn darts
not saying I’m hard
But I got street val for my Pokemon cards
Better put me onto Pawn Stars
And I’ll Barter like my gramma when she wants art
Every block or two I skate around another beggar
Leaning on a cop car
Baked as a pop tart

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks
You’d better run, better run, outrun my gun
All the other kids with the pumped up kicks
You’d better run, better run, faster than my bullet
All the other kids with the pumped up kicks
You’d better run, better run, outrun my gun
All the other kids with the pumped up kicks
You’d better run, better run, faster than my bullet
All the other kids with the pumped up kicks
You’d better run, better run, outrun my gun
All the other kids with the pumped up kicks
You’d better run, better run, faster than my bullet