[Hook]
Do you wanna walk a mile in my shoes?
Do you wanna live the life that I've lived?
Do you wanna spend one day, just one night
On the pavement trying to beat me?
Do you wanna go the places I've gone?
Maybe even see the things that I've seen?
Do you wanna go against the grain, for the love and the pain
Cuz you can't stop chasing green?
[Verse 1: Twisted Black]
Now imagine you Pops died when you was just 11 years young
But he taught you how to shoot his .22 for mere fun
And you ain't got no brothers or no sisters you can vent to
And Daddy was a hustler, so the streets is where you went to
Smaller than the average, so they labeled you the outcast
Started packing pocket knives and learned to pull them out fast
Never played sports because it wasn't in your bloodlines
Selling candy doubled with this work for pushing good times
Switched the product, and now the rules is to outlast
Any n***a with it, cuz bottom line it's about cash
Momma tried her best, and sometimes she would whip on me
But Momma hustled with Daddy, and their spirits got a grip on me
Midwest -- what you n***as know about a kid that's
Pulling in a G everyday and never did less?
But that's me, and that's just the way that life goes
I got to walk even though it ain't the shoes that I chose
[Hook]
[Verse 2: Twisted Black]
Can you imagine a 12-gauge shot to your face?
10 years later, still got the gunpowder taste in your mouth
Even sting like it was some toothpaste, on top of that
I done slipped up and caught a new case for fighting laws
Cuz I'm broke, and my Momma she done married a man
Who's a dope fiend, and he keep showing love with his hands
But I'm locked up, and I can't even chastise him
And I forgot my gun shot, it left my left side limp
I'm a hustler, but I done fell in love with the 'cane
I done went to snorting rows[?] for camouflaging my pain
And I got kids, and I can't even look in their eyes
I don't want them to figure out that I'm a beast in disguise
I told the lord in the prayer, "laced my shoes too tight
I read the Bible front to back, and still I won't do right"
Cuz I'm a f** up, and all I really know is the streets
And even though I'm out the South I keep on holding this heat
It's my shoes!
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Twisted Black]
So I pace my streets without a conscience, full grown guerrilla
Walk the beat just like a sergeant, from Barry to Miller[?]
You got same cake, you want to get it going? Holler at Black
Cuz I'm a hustler down to the bone, this ain't an act
Now check my resume, and there it'll tell you Black move weight from
Here to San Diego, disappear like a Naval
Blax-ican amigo, come back with Cuervo
With white, to the wheat, to the China, to the maple
n***as know I'm game tight, plus I've got hands too
145 pounds, better out-man you
Bet I've got more gangster, more hustle, more cla**
More better scars with more traps and more cash
Bet you can't see me on your best day
Bet you never see this n***a fold up -- what, n***a, hold up!
Bet you I'm the truth, and I bet I penetrate it through the youth
And I bet you can't walk in my shoes
[Hook]
[Outro]