This is a song about "Shoes and life and sports and riding or hiding"

Cause i will run home and grab my shoes

You would think that i had a match for a tooth

I will screw it and over do it, and if ya step on my brand new shoes,

I'm just trying to paint that picture, when i'm rhyming up in this booth

Escobar season begins, so let the semis ring

Or you'll spend your life with wrinkles and skin cracking,

And if you got money man the head is amazing

I'm looking for a hiding station and my heart is racing

Go to thrift store and pick up your missing shoes

Silver bullets, purple piff, blue pills, grey goose

And i snap like bob backlund in the booth

My brothers need some clothes and shoes

I don't care about the nice cars and shoes with the leather,

Had to teach the bitch manners, now i gotta learn her

Dominating of the eastside shall commence

Jordan on my shoes, i got the eights and tens