Kicks

[Kill Bill]

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks

Put the chump up, slump, put the bump up in your mix

And I'm, so sick with the lyrics God dammit

Y'all get it, I'm famished, live it up when I'm lamping

Big shoes, fourteens on the feet

Kill Bill, you're the king on the beat, no sleep

I'm a keep rhyming when I twist up the ramen

Drumming keep timing, pretty bitch right beside me and uh

Six four, not the car, just height

Sick flower with the bars, just right, all right, (all right)

I ain't tripping when I'm finding my phone

Pain dripping off the top of my dome, that's alright though

I ain't playing man my mind gets psycho

Wrecking on the mic, man it's time for Geico

Hit my boy Rav for the cyc of Vico

I like to tight flow, the mic is my ho

And I'm having fun, everybody just dance with me

I'm trying to find a girl to get up out them pants for me

You know the name, Kill Bill be the man to be

My fans can see, the stans and freaks

We on, ten eleven, get the reverend

Swag on ball z, blast on y'all beats

Everybody blowing on something real nice, yeah its fucking real life

Sing us something we'll like (like)

[Hook] [Foster The People]

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks

You better run and run, outrun my gun

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks

You better run and run, faster than my bullet

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks

You better run and run, outrun my gun

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks

You better run and run, faster than my bullet

[Rav]

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks

See my guns, then split, they don't want them clips

Wanna talk that shit? Finna suck my dick

Best understand, man I run this bitch

Chilling at the club, with a hundred chicks

With their shiny little eyes and they hungry lips

And they want R-av, cause the bars I spit

Got the hard flow, hardcore, art so sick

Part man, part beast, part artist

And them haters gonna hate cause they all blow dick

Fuck y'all pricks, I'm a hardcore kid

Get the smart girls fast and my car go quick

Popping Vico in large portions

Biblical flow, man I part oceans

Reaching for the stars, till you all go "shit!

Rav got fire on that charcoal shit!" (aaah!)

Forty-seven in the trunk

Double barrel in the back, Smith & Wesson in the front

Are you feeling lucky? Don't test me punk

I'm a break you in half like a Nestle's Crunch

See my fam knows me as a stand up guy

And I will live forever man I cannot die

Catch the other kids in my tank-top I

Tell 'em run little kids, with your hands up high

[Hook] [Foster The People]

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks

You better run and run, outrun my gun

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks

You better run and run, faster than my bullet

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks

You better run and run, outrun my gun

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks

You better run and run, faster than my bullet

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks

You better run and run, outrun my gun

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks

You better run and run, faster than my bullet