Pumped Up Kicks

Robert's got a quick hand
He'll look around the room,
But 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,
And with 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
Daddy works a long day
He'd be coming home late, yeah, he's coming home late
And 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
Yeah, the sleight of my hand is now a quick pull trigger
I reason with my cigarette
Then 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



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

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