This is a song about "Cleats"

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

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

Too much percussion and bass when i take beats

Turn on rhapsody starin at my dad's vintage cleats

Indeed, the flow raw just the same as my levi jeans

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

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.

How high? nigga, higher than the kites they fly

He rises runs the game while his cleats pry

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

The maskin' in dire of cavin' in. breakin' empire that's how it seems