Shoes

Walk in my shoes, look through my eyes Feel my pain and tell my lies Identify and try to empathize I tried to trade shoes, but we were a different size I put the shoes in line that were mine at any time since I was nine from Reeboks to Nikes As the shine of the designs were compromised with grime I realized these shoes to the dot defined me Lucid on the leather the weather I traveled through, the stressors I battled through My pleasures and altitudes Vivid on it’s skin the images I fitted in, an ignorant synthesis of my experiences My Singularity caged in, Personality faceless My identity suffocated by the laces Why don't you walk in my shoes, walk em’ a whole mile But I’ve been scrubbing my image as I polish my soul now So how can you feel symmetry or any kind of sympathy If you don’t know my past or any of my idiosyncrasies So radar me and scan me and then label me and brand me But you’ve never had a dinner at the table with my family It’s the thin line where prejudice and empathy meet They even teach us how to judge on Sesame Street The judgments are coming till your identity’s bleak As a centipede of what they said you’re meant to be, see I want to understand you so I glare at you and speculate Dive into your mind as I meditate and levitate I narrate your story, as I estimate and get it straight And then they shove the label in your face till you perpetuate See understanding is hand in hand with standing under The shadow manages, panoramically cast you under Hey Dude, maybe we can trade shoes But you’ll never know me, and I’ll neve r know you When I see those open toed shoes I think you shop for tofu at whole foods And when I see those socks with sandals I assume your home schooled Champion at sudoku, and when feeling kinky on facebook he’ll poke you When I see those light up shoes flashing lazers I think you drink four locos and call yourself a raver And those DC kicks make me think you’re a rebel skater Who says, fuck the world, fuck school, fuck parents and fuck haters When I see those nikes, I think you wear a white t Surf the web on hypebeast, and like to get hyphy Those jordans make me think you listen to rick ross While you’re shopping at big ross, you dress for less like a big boss, and sports always makes you pissed off When I see those vintage slip ons, I think you’re a hipster rip off Who buys typewriters, and hates mainstream sitcoms And likes to sip chai tea with a hint of cucumber And takes planking pictures to upload to tumblr Those Flip Flops give off that chiller attitude Pass it split the hash in two, grass lit for your latitude Streaming my life is bro and it’s absolutely factual Cuz you rock lax pennies while spooning your laxtitute Those high heal stilletos, impeccably thin skeletal Edible skin sensual, Falsetto singing Gaga At work you wear Prada, and in bed you wear nada So your’e eve and the devil, karma hotter than lava And those uggs make me think that you’re a blondie With a juicy on the booty of your body You ride horse like a jocky until your makeup is blotchy You like music that’s poppy and you’ve never heard of Ghandi And those business shoes make me think you’re in tall building in a small suite Taking dumps laughing overlooking occupy wallstreet So juvenile, if they’re in a suit, then they’re suitable Pondering in your cubicle their future is reducible And I as I stare in your eyes, I yearn for something mutual Perhaps a commonality could make our lives fusible See if you were barefoot I would offer my shoes to you Unless they’re irremovable, unless I never knew the truth