Back to my shoes how could i forget
And if you had more street cred then you'd be dead
Iron my clothes, pick out some shoes
Kill the jungle let the cats loose
I got a lot to say, i don't hold my tongue
My shoes cost a fortune paintin these pictures like norman
Self made from my skin to my shoes, size 18 so i know im in the view
Avenue that avenue i'm doing more than just passing through
When they wouldn't be the same with a day in my shoes,
Fuck it we on the move, none of use tryna lose
I get more respect from the motherfuckin' dope manthe grammy's and american music shows
I bury my whole foot in ur faggot ass and still walk tall haters keep me on toes/
Pathological liars even know i'm the truth
When the cops dip through strappin on my runnin shoes
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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