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 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