Watsky (george Watsky) - Pumped Up Kicks Remix lyrics

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 Pace 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 nickelbag You want some nicotine You wanted a fix I will never be your goldmine Taking my kicks And I'm hanging em over the phoneline 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 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