This is a song about "The popes shoes"

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

Like the bottom of your dated shoes

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

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

Hating on my team until they see we won't lose

When the cops dip through strappin on my runnin shoes

You gotta pay attention in order to pay dues

Of course i'm robbin' too, i ain't got the loot to cop some shoes,

My brothers need some clothes and shoes

And i snap like bob backlund in the booth

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

That's why they ride the bandwagon still be draggin' sellin' lies

The smoke filled rooms, the velcro shoes, it's all good

Lookin back in my yearbook, all the years took

And look at the motherfucking popes, they virulent racists,

Oooo your booty so thick behind them juicy ass lips