Street Sweeper

There he goes running down the street
 He's moving and panting, and stomping his feet
 He's hoping and trying to lose the law
 He's almost away, but there is a flaw
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 He hit a dead end, and there is no way out
 But it seems as if he has no 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 Seventh Street gangster
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 He looks in the mirror and pulls out his gun
 He cocks it and aims it ready for fun
 Got a big problem, his bullets are gone
 But even worse, his driver named Don
 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 pushes the button, the ground leaves his feet
 Once again, the Seventh 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