The Hit of Conicoid Figurines and Ensuing the Dispersal on the Zebral Place

I'm watching a lollipop on the crossing
The crowd of kiddies
I tread on the accelerator, like Landa
I turn left

Wheels crush of innocents
The icing squirt from trunks

The motor roars in a frenzy
The exhaust throws up waste products
It's pretty cracking under wheels
Maybe I'll go into a spin

It makes a sportsman out of me
To play skittles at hundred.