[Verse 1 – Scotty ATL]
I got my dre beats turned up, zoned out, writing raps
Broke my collar bone last week and all I got is time to focus
Dre's head, [?] cut, you’ll be only funky ass
So I spend my time just getting doper with my funky ass
Don't step on my shoe, my n***a, just got the bitches
Uh, can't follow no footsteps of no sloppy bitches, yeah
Got to check my footwork, follow my lead
Marathon, but I still sprint, I feel good at this speed
So I lace my J’s up, size 12, tell me boy, what size you are
You can't want my pair my shoes, I swear boy, stay off in your pair
You could did this battle, would have did it, all that talking
Keep my Facebook status vague, now the groupie bitches stalking
Keep my head off, spirits high, make the best of what I got
Anything is better than that [?] and the pirate pot
Don't let them fool you, killers get the blue
Why you're trying to put them on, they don't even want 'em shoes
Take you way back, way back, Eastland boots and [?] shirts
Me and [?] stealing down Atlantic with van
Trying to pull on for my partners, show them n***as I'm the man
Had to call my mom to pick me up, no cuff was on my hand
So I learn quick, be yourself, that's all you'll be anyway
Keep your [?] steady, boy, that shit can pop off any day
And that jealousy ain't get you shit, and you're better off putting all that
And your own hustle got better a chance for you to be the boss in my shoes

[Verse 2 - Starlito]
Scotty got me feeling like Georgia
Fresh new old pair of Jordans
Bet a n***a wanted, and I think they would
Sixth grade but I couldn't afford 'em
I remember when I first started recording, pussy ass n***a life
Same n***a trying to get me on they tapes trying pull their situation, can’t get in they venues
I'm well aware people changes like the channels
9: 45 they love you, by 10 o'clock they can't stand you
Put 24 on my shoes, strap on my side like the Griffeys
One day this bread gon rise, I'm just hoping it’s in a jiffy
Listen, ain't nothing cool about struggling
You think otherwise and you tripping
Thugging, ride, filthy, 3D with two pair pistols
One from the police and a pair of true religion
Fresh new pair of pimpings
If I scuff em, fuck it I bust my bubble
As long as I don’t get in no more trouble
And I get away, get another pair, get another pay, and pack more heat
Wish I could stop in the hood
Got more stripes than a foot locker employee
I just call the plays, no huddle
Ready set go, I got the trouble
I can't even smoke, my ho is PO
They on patrol, so you already know
I'm gone
[Verse 3 - Killa Kyleon]
Run it!
You couldn’t walk a mile in my shit
Why you n***as talking down on my dick?
Boys can’t afford the shit that I buy
Costs bout a rack to walk in my kicks
[?] but a Georgia ice in my neck
Costs bout a leg to ice up my wrist
Bought me a ring and marry myself
Why you boys climb to wife in that bitch
Put me some candy all on my doors
Fresh set of swingers under my ship
Brand new butter seats for my back
Two white girls to pour up my sip
Keep codiene all in my pot, got some loaded all in my waist
Fuck boys hate to see me on top, so fuck boys always up in my face
Guess they mad cause I’m a mino, chinchilla cover my coat
OGs is all that I rock, OG is all that I smoke
These diamonds all in my wood grain and my palm gripping that oak
Same hands counting that bread, that scrambled eggs with that toast