gold minutes after the gates on stores go up You know who done it now, Few hundred miles And with shoes on it now It's like a few hundred thou When we
I wanna do is make a nigga get bucked So get up, and get your mothafuckin' hands up [Chorus] [MJG] Throw your hands in the smoke, cause there's smoke
by Sam Sever Livin in my shoes boy, this is not Shoe Town A showdown for Motown, it's a new sound Lyrics that lick, the tick off a timepiece Foamin at
out I wear these brown orthopedic shoes 'Cause I got a bad case of the gout I know you want seconds on the corndogs But there's no reason to shout Everybody
with a knife when I was three years old, finally figured it out That's why a nigga sold coke, clientele and clout Without a motherfuckin doubt, take a
this slick (why not?) With a watch and bracelet this flooded, and a cross this sick? So why wouldn't I get it homes (I mean) To a nigga gettin' money
of the town Thats the reason why they stare 4 karats in my ear If you look see a glare Im - one of a kind With a wonderful rhyme Im skatin off in a 'rari