Pumped up Kicks

You better run, better run, outrun my gun
All the other kids
All the other kids
All the other kids
All the other kids, kids, kids, kids, kids...
Faster than my bullet

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 in his mouth, he's a cowboy kid

Yeah, he found a six shooter gun
In his dad's closet, hidden in a box of fun things
I don't even know what
But he's coming for you, yeah, he's coming for you

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

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

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

All the other kids with the...

Daddy works a long day
He'll be coming home late, yeah, he's coming home late
He's bringing me a surprise
'Cause dinner's in the kitchen and it's packed in ice

I've waited for a long time
Now, the slight of my hand is now a quick pull trigger
Reason with the cigarette
I say, "Your hair's on fire
You must have lost your wits, yeah"

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

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



Credits
Writer(s): Mark Foster
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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