This is a song about "With out shoes"

Snapple fact: you rather wack

My shoes black, slater back/

When they would be the same with a day in my shoes,

Fuckin' up my prestige, till i live with the blues

Our nation have to bow, africa

Shoes, louis, prada, groupie blah blah

No longer alive with out you,

When i get to warwick avenue

You can't find your fucken shoes?

Yeah, look here i pay dues

Come and walk a mile in my shoes.

Kill the jungle let the cats loose

Yea, smoking loud enjoying my youth

Why you keep falling from your own shoes?

And i snap like bob backlund in the booth

Like the bottom of your dated shoes