Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Walk In My Shoes, artist - Berner. Album song RICO, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 05.09.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Bern One Entertainment
Song language: English
Walk In My Shoes |
So many years in the dope game pushin' big weight |
Gettin' to the cheese |
Ooh wee wee |
All you copycat killas can’t compare to a villain like me |
'Cause I feed these streets with my ring |
Neva, neva let your livin' go sky |
Too many foes on the |
And never, never claim somethin' that’s not yours |
Fuck around and get popped |
I woke up in the mornin' and broke a zip down |
Pre-rolls for the day, pulled the whips out |
Both phones ringin', Facetime audio |
I’m choppin' up game, we control where the (?) go |
Go to the stash house to pull some cash out |
Ray Ray’s on the couch still passed out |
Lookin' through the cabinets, we outta vac' bags |
I need a few more rolls, where they grab that? |
Lil' Ray Ray woke up. |
he said, «hit Stonestown» |
Hit my watch on the counter, knocked a stone out |
And now I’m grumpy as hell |
I hopped in his Porsche truck |
I shoulda known by the smell that we were dirty |
But I’m really in a hurry |
The spot close at five, I need to send a buck thirty (about thirty grand) |
We should have never took Lincoln |
I’m stuck up in traffic, seen an unmarked creepin' (shit) |
Here go the lights for no reason |
Ray ain’t speakin', I can tell what he thinkin' (shhh!) |
Man, don’t say nada |
I seen a duffel bag in the back by the |
How’s it goin'? |
It smells like weed |
Wait, aren’t you the rapper with the store in Geneva? |
(yeah, that’s me) |
I could tell he’s a fan but the other cop approached, he said, «show me your hands!» |
(hey, chill out, bro) |
Look guys, I got a show at nine |
He said this ain’t about you, we wanna talk to the driver |
He looked at Ray, stop wastin' my time |
'Cause the homie left your house, he was wearin' a wire |
Dead silence, Ray started laughin' (why you laughin', dawg?) |
He opened up the door and went for the package |
Grabbed the duffel, all they found was some Polo |
They mad, the fan boy asked for a photo |
Four o’clock when we got the spot |
The thot flaked on me, had to send my own box (I hate that shit) |
I started fillin' out the slip then the dude behind the counter asked Bern' for |
a pic |
Now I know I can’t trust him |
It’s four-fifteen, I need to set down somethin' |
Look, cousin, I appreciate the love |
I’ll be right back, I left somethin' in my truck |
Fuck |
(The daily struggles of the dope game) |
(Go ahead and holla at him, Kokane) |
(The daily struggles of the dope game) |
(Go ahead and holla at him, Kokane) |
You could never walk in my shoes |
You could never walk in my shoes |
You could never walk in my shoes |
You could never walk in my shoes |
Why they hatin' on me? |
(yeah) |
So many years in the dope game pushin' big weight |
Gettin' to the cheese |
Ooh wee wee |
All you copycat killas can’t compare to a villain like me |
'Cause I feed these streets with my ring |
Neva, neva let your livin' go sky |
Too many foes on the |
And never, never claim somethin' that’s not yours |
Fuck around and get popped |
They wanna walk in my shoes |
I swear to God they wanna walk in my shoes |
They wanna walk in my shoes |
I swear to God they wanna walk in my shoes |
They wanna walk in my shoes |
I swear to God they wanna walk in my shoes |
They wanna walk in my shoes |
I swear to God they wanna walk in my shoes |