| They’re the in crowd, we’re the other ones
|
| It’s a different kind of cloth that we’re cut from
|
| We let our colors show, where the numbers ain’t
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| With the paint where there ain’t supposed to be paint
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| That’s who we are
|
| That’s how we roll
|
| The Outsiders, The Outsiders
|
| Our women get hot, and our leather gets stained
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| When we saddle up and ride 'em in the pouring rain
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| We’re the junkyard dogs, we’re the alley cats
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| Keep the wind at our front, and the hell at our back
|
| That’s who we are
|
| We do our talking, walk that walk
|
| Wide open rocking
|
| That’s how we roll
|
| Our backs to the wall
|
| A band of brothers
|
| Together, alone, the Outsiders
|
| We’re the riders, we’re the ones burning rubber off our tires.
|
| Yeah, we’re the fighters, the all-nighters
|
| So fire 'em up and get a lil higher
|
| Woah-oh-oh
|
| Woah-oh-oh
|
| Woah-oh-oh
|
| Woah-oh-oh
|
| We’re the bad news
|
| We’re the young guns
|
| We’re the ones that they told you to run from
|
| Yeah, the player’s gonna play, and a haters gonna hate
|
| And a regulators born to regulate
|
| When it hits the fan, and it all goes down
|
| And the gloves come off
|
| You’re gonna find out just
|
| Who we are
|
| We do our talking, walk that walk
|
| Wide open rocking
|
| That’s how we roll
|
| Our backs to the wall
|
| A band of brothers
|
| Together, alone, the outsiders
|
| We’re the riders, we’re the ones burning rubber off our tires
|
| Yeah, we’re the fighters, the all-nighters
|
| So fire 'em up and get a lil higher
|
| Woah-oh-oh
|
| Woah-oh-oh
|
| The Outsiders
|
| Woah-oh-oh
|
| Woah-oh-oh
|
| The Outsiders
|
| Woah-oh-oh
|
| Woah-oh-oh
|
| You’re gonna know who we are
|
| Woah-oh-oh
|
| Woah-oh-oh
|
| The Outsiders
|
| Woah-oh-oh
|
| Woah-oh-oh
|
| That’s who we are |