Lyrics

Robert's got a quick hand He'll look around the room, he won't tell you his plans He's got a rolled cigarette Hangin' out his mouth, he's a cowboy kid Yeah, found a six-shooter gun Yeah, in his dad's closet, oh, in a box of fun things I don't even know what But he's comin' for you, yeah, he's coming for you 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 Daddy works a long day He be comin' home late, he's coming home late And he's bringing me a surprise 'Cause the dinner's in the kitchen, and it's packed on ice I've waited for a long time Yeah, the slight of my hand is now a quick pull trigger I reason with my cigarette And say "your hair's on fire, you must have lost your wits", yeah 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, yeah
Writer(s): Mark Foster Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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