This is a song about "The popes shoes"

Silver bullets, purple piff, blue pills, grey goose

When they wouldn't be the same with a day in my shoes,

Yeah, look here i pay dues

Like the swoosh on my shoes

So i kicked of my shoes, threw away the shackles

Hasheem thabeet and various other peoples

Crockadillys are the shoes for me

I keep that hottie, just look at her body

Guess the heat was too much, like the arse of the popes children choir

It's not a figure of speech when i tell you that i dumped her

Use my stiletto flows? not the shoes, no, more like the knife.

Look, the illest bitch alive, reallest bitch alive

My kostons are the reason that you tossed your wrinkly leather shoes

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

See my team has hella cars, i got a couple knots

Stop the clock and take their watches, cop 'em, got no shoes or socks,