There he goes running down the stret He's moving and panting and stomping his feet He's hoping and trying to lose the law He's alsmost away but there is a flaw He hit a dead end and there is no way ou, but it seems as if he has not doubt Look at that hole in the wall to his right He's punching the bricks out with all of his might He's making his way through little by little One minute more and he'll get to the middle He gets to the other side and sees it, his big black car with his driver in it The cops are gaining with each passing moment It's making him nervous but he'll never show it He's too rough for anyone... He's the 7th street gangster
He looks in the mirror and pulls out his gun, cocks it and aims it ready for fun Got a big problem, his bullets are gone But even worse his driver named Don is passed out on the floor of the car With him down there they won't go far The only solution is under his seat, he pushed the button --the ground leaves his feet Once again the 7th street gangster has won Why do people challenge him when they know what will be done He's never lost and I doubt he ever will A word of warning to you all--don't mess with the SSG