This is a song about "Cleats"

I cop weed for less of a percentage than i fucking plot seeds

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

I may not be very good at this test thing and sometimes i need a few little cheats

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

Doin twenty to life in san quentingettin calls from my nigga mike tyson, ain't nuttin nice

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

He rises runs the game while his cleats pry

They gon tell you that's a lie, lie, lie

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

Know what they mean, everything ain't what it seems

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

Giving niggas the piece of mind to put it to beats

Turn on rhapsody starin at my dad's vintage cleats

That's why i keep my pistol when i walk the streets