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 Place
A giggling gaggle of Tickle Me Elmos
I ate some Wheaties and graduated to shell toes
Running from a bully, man I'm thinking hell no
Chain me to a tree, I'm waiting for the bulldozer
You only woulda seen me skate away if hell froze
May not be bigger but you're never gonna pick on me
You're Cedric Diggory, I'm Nicholas Nickleby
You better pick a team, there's no in between
You want a nickel bag, you want some Nicotine
You wanted a fix, I will never be your goldmine
Taking my kicks and I'm hanging 'em over the phone line
So you can find me, posted feeling so fine
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
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
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 chain link 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 gramdma 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
Writer/s: Watsky
