If this is the first time, anyone on Funk Volume
Is hearing me on a track, I want this to be a positive
Introduction, most of these entries, are gonna
Be I’m the shit, and these other rappers aren’t
There’s a time and a place for bragging and boasting
But I don’t want to focus on the other rappers
I want to tell you a story, about my shoes
(start beat)

My shoes, my shoes
My shoes, my shooooooes
My shoes, my shooooooes

I’ve got a fan base, to match my shit shoes
Fresh out the shower, stinking up the booth
Rugged and worn, scuffed beaten and torn
Forced on the first step like a weak pawn
About week away, from that duct tape and glue, had
Em five years, so that means they know me
better than some of my friends do
They’ve weathered every mother fucking
Storm that I’ve been through, tasted the venues
While I peeped the menu, I’m sorry
You’re my soul and my tongue, march like an army
Step by step, from dirt to cement
Rubber and cloth, made to protect
Now it only looks good? Well if all gets scrapped
Labeled useless rap, remember one thing
I’ve got a lot weight, just laying on my shoulders
But that’ll never match, what you’re holding for both of us

My shoes, my shoes
My shoes, my shooooooes
My shoes, my shooooooes

I got em for free, and they were jet black
Now their looking beat down resembling ash
But i don’t want to scrap em and land em in the trash
I want em in a case on a stand with a plaque
If you’re ready to laugh, then you don’t understand
All the times we’ve had, getting good at being bad
Running through the alleys hopping fences dodging sentences
Carrying me home so I can punctuate my sentences
Tried to keep em clean, brushing like a dentist is
Then it was all ME! I don’t care how my dependent lives
So, I remained oblivious to simple blemishes
Until they blossomed into severed stitches on the edges
Trimming em like hedges, hiding when I can
Cause now they’re not impressive, four years later and
I finally learned my lesson, I got for free but
They we’re inexpensive, name brand stuff
Not always the best shit, I’ve got a lot of friends
With a fresh pair of kicks, soon to meet the closet
Where all the dead live. Unscuffed untouched un-
Torn….never given the chance
To love being worn, and show they're support
They’re cold like bones, and they warm, carrying you home
cold like bones, and they warm, carrying you home

My shoes, my shoes
My shoes, my shooooooes
My shoes, my shooooooes