This is a song about "Holes in my shoes"

I'ma try to rhyme and get through, i'm documenting the truth

Sober up and i'm in narnia without any shoes

Play me for a stepping stone then, i land mine, huh

Holes in they sweater, from my lyrical beretta

And those that oppose go out with holes in the head

My d & p frizest, they haven't seen the streets yet

And what remains from a twelve gauge to the brainarguements with my boo is true

Self made from my skin to my shoes, size 18 so i know im in the view

Bullet holes in your mind you the phony

Busta-ass motherfuckers tried to flee

Dark side of town, baby mama blues

They tryin to take a walk in my shoes,

Kill the jungle let the cats loose

My brothers need some clothes and shoes

Magazines who at times seem to misuse

Iron my clothes, pick out some shoes