This is a song about "Golf shoes"

I ain’t gotta lie, they know i’m the truth

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

So cool, my bitch got no shoes

You need shoes i need booze

Like damn mama the reason i work hard

So much green my new car should be a golf cart

We the 93 chicago bulls baby

Crockadillys are the shoes for me

Feeling ripped off, like ya went to college and majored in professional disc golf

On, thanksgiving we thankful, just for livin in helldamn homey, i don't mean to be harsh

Go to thrift store and pick up your missing shoes

Yesterday's paper, that's why you old news

Like the bottom of your dated shoes

High as shit, i’m in a booth