k** Bill: The Rapper - Kicks lyrics

[k** 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 k** 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 b**h 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, k** 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 f**ing real life Sing us something we'll like (like) [Hook] [Foster The People] x2 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 sh**? Finna s** my dick Best understand, man I run this b**h 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 f** 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 "sh**! Rav got fire on that charcoal sh**!" (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] x3 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