[Fingazz]
"You got to..."

[Lil' Rob]
It's Lil' Rob
We go through them hard times, man
Just gotta keep our heads up
And keep on walkin'
You know

Chorus: Lil' Rob
These Cortez shoes
Know the hard times
That we've been through
All the crazy things that
We used to do
Just to get by
Walk in my shoes
And you will see why
These Cortez shoes
Try to walk in
These Cortez shoes
Bet you couldn't walk
A mile in these shoes
But we get by
And we've got to keep on walkin'
(Verse 1)
Let me take you back a way, homie, back in my day
Before I figured out that crime doesn't pay
I was on the
Streets, every night, every day
Out with the homies, hangin' out
Havin' a good time, ay
But sometimes
A good time meant to jump in the ride
And cold blast on the vatos from the other side
My uncles did it
My brother did it
Now so do I
No need to wonder why, I, was a victim of a driveby
That turned into a shootout
Cause, they ain't gettin' away
Hell no, not without a bullet, wound ay
That was my state of mind, all the time, don't cross the line
And believe me when I say
That the line was fine
You might catch me in a bad mood, with a bad attitude
A little homeboy that hates to lose
Or you might be, talkin' shit about me right now
But you couldn't walk a mile in my shoes
You feel me, holmes (Come on)
Repeat Chorus

(Verse 2)
My compa called me up, said, "Turn on the T.V."
That's when I got the news about my homeboy Pee Wee
Rest in peace to the deceased, beneath the barrio streets
When I saw him on the news, he had Cortez on his feet
When we went through it
Some of made it
Some of us blew it, who would've knew it
I remember
Crazy times in the Buick
Crazy shit, we were likely to do it
I wasn't really serious about music
It's just too easy to lose it
And a lot of us do it
Itchy finger hair trigger, it's just too easy to pull it
We live a life by the bullet, we either die or get locked up
Make a mess
Too big to be mopped up
Behind the smile there's a frown, sad enough to bring you down
A little homeboy that sings the blues
Because he had no clue, what to do with his life
Walkin' around in his Cortez shoes
That's what I used to do
Repeat Chorus

(Verse 3)
I got shot, down the block, at the stop, ran from cops
I never thought that it would stop
I never hit the county, not even juvenile hall
But that's only cause I didn't get caught
And I can only imagine
What would have happened if I
Continued scrappin' and cappin', blastin' and laughin'
I'd probably be dead or in jail
Than I wouldn't be, standing here rappin' about these Cortez shoes

Repeat Chorus Twice

[Fingazz]
"Fin... fin..."
"Fi-fi-Fingazz on the track..."