This is a song about "Cleats"

Pack it up thirty minutes to the jet leaves

Turn on rhapsody starin at my dad's vintage cleats

Punched the teacher out like pow, he jumped my ass with some cleats

Maybe i should buy some hundreds, wear some fucking skinny jeans

He rises runs the game while his cleats pry

Cuz they all broken, why do ghetto birds die

Everybodys plot is deceit, when its not, its retreat cuz ill stomp ya, with cleats

Then quickly people start activate reactions through words , thoughts, and deeds

And watch me as i stomp on this game wearing my cleats

Giving niggas the piece of mind to put it to beats

Baby i can see that you don't recognize mei'm shock g: the one who put the satin on your panties

This is kinda like a game so i brought my cleats, and have fun smiling after i kick in your teeth.

As i stare at the ceiling fan, as a fan of these wicked streets

And bind lines to make them sweet and grind ground like they were cleats