This is a song about "Golf shoes"

High as shit, i’m in a booth

Like the swoosh on my shoes

Back straight, eyes low, he wears khakis and polo shoes

Fuck it we on the move, none of use tryna lose

Mr. underdog and this is not a bark

So much green my new car should be a golf cart

But make sure if they do see

Crockadillys are the shoes for me

Ive got neon laced shoes, i used to wear crayon paint shoes,

Fuckin' up my prestige, till i live with the blues

Like the bottom of your dated shoes

Its cold as shit in this booth

All them bitches converse with me off that react juice

Why you keep falling from your own shoes?

Yeah, i got the flow that they know is the truth

Cause i will run home and grab my shoes