Jaks

Oh, I ain't goin' to work today (yeah, why not?)
'Cause I'd rather work on breakin' my own bones with some style ya know

(Go) 45 M-P-H
(Go) down hill on a skate
There's a code that ya better know
There's one style and that's to skate
We skate in packs, our flag is Jaks
There's always time to race
Only a fool has a pool and keeps it full
Only the trader don't trade his pools

(Go!) 45 M-P-H
(Go!) down hill on a skate

(Go!) 45 M-P-H
(Go!) down hill on a skate

So there I am skatin' solo down 9th Avenue (and I rule)
A couple bikers pull up on me one on each side (I hate those fucks)
They try to lock me in and here comes a bus
These scumbags, they want me dead
I know they want my head (we gotta go!)

I pull that drumstick out of my pocket (we gotta go)
Puts it in the spokes, the biker slams (we gotta go)
Don't laugh because he was a Jak (we gotta go)
Bunch of Jaks, doing numbers, 45 (we gotta go)
45, 45 (we gotta go)
Jaks (we gotta go)



Credits
Writer(s): Wade Walston, Kerry Martinez, Duane Thomas Peters, Chip Hanna, Chuck Briggs
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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