Lyrics My Shoes - Mark Battles, Curren$y

My Shoes

I remember nights was hard to defend a fight
Everybody feasting Jesus, can I get a slice
I left alone I hope you find Mr. Right
I’d never hit a girl but my sister might
Let me relax it’s just the anger talking
Last night I had a dream I see an angel walking
Went up to him shook his hand said I don’t thank you often
For the lessons, and the blessings, got so many questions
I want to know if this the new beginning
If you’re unaware of your mistakes is it truly sinning
I got a girl at home why am I going through these women
Open the door to more punches than a juice convention
Screaming and scratching over standing my actions
All this madness, I don’t know what’s wrong with me
I’m like a rich girl purse got a lil dog in me
I’m tryna focus on what matters
Pissing on these rappers like I got a bad bladder
Capture different meanings with these rap daggers
Little back patters, nothing but some back stabbers
Don’t trust them if they say that only cash matters
My friends say I’m the best in rap argument
Bars and stuck up chicks cus they hard to get
Market sick fade you quicker than some barber clips
So fly I gotta marry me a martian chick
I’m walking on the sky who can I party with
Party slips, most screw days I hardly win
Mobbin' through the city with my crew beside me
Loyal to the soil so we really ridin'
My album drops this fall I hope you go and cop it
Tryna get more sells then a human body, I keep it real
I don’t appeal to the phony ones
I gave out 7 tapes free I think you owe me one
Show me some
All the places I’ve been
All the people I see
You think you wanna be me
You couldn’t walk a mile in my shoes
Don’t wanna walk around in my shoes
All these bitches in my rear view
Weed foggy mirror clear view
I see you but I dont feel you
Cus I never met the real you
Only the pretend you
You got no clue what I’ve been through
That friendship that you offering isn’t true
A partnership would not be beneficial
To neither of us, we them hustlers
Y’all them suckers, can’t do y’all until we done us
Comfy in that Chevy box kleenex tissue
Couldn’t walk to the mailbox in my slippers, nigga