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