K.R.E.A.M.

[Intro:] Word up, look out for the cops (Wu-Tang) Two for fives over here baby Word up, two for fives, niggas got garbage down the way Word up, check this ol’ fly shit out, word up Step on my shoes, I will kill you Knew he had a crew, that weren’t no punk In their Spitfire shirts and SB dunks Step on my shoes, I will kill you Yeah [Verse 1: Y-O] Size ten, maybe ten and a half Good condition, for many years they last Creative Recs, Vans, DCs Alife, Supreme are the pumps on my feet Shoe color is bright Fuck it, all of those above you can catch in the night It’s like, walk the streets with my Nike SBs Purposely place the fat tongue in front of jeans (Be cautious ‘round these) Put frowns on faces, my kick game is so mean Your shoes are [?] to hear you need aid Release a couple sprays from my Nike Air Raids No matter what the cost is Me without kicks on my feet is Rasheed without forces And while I spit that shit Notice that these Fifth Element kicks hang from my neck Church [Hook:] Knew he had a crew, that weren’t no punk In their Spitfire shirts and SB dunks Kicks rule everything around me, K.R.E.A.M Get ya sneakers, got my SBs on Knew he had a crew, that weren’t no punk In their Spitfire shirts and SB dunks Kicks rule everything around me, K.R.E.A.M Get ya sneakers, got my Reeboks on [Verse 2: Thurzday] Creative recreate-ya-face-tion Cosmetically get stomped (Creative Recreations) Not from Portland, I’m a Laker But watch the chicks follow the trail when I rock my blazers Broke as fuck, that’s word to my mother But I still paint the city in Adidas Adicolors They say I’m shallow, I never learned to swim But my glow-in-the-dark pumps keep me float like fins The K.R.E.A.M. started at age ten When my mom refused to buy 11 Jordans I was, sick for months, didn’t go to recess Saw the little homies balled in ‘em at lunch, now I assault the court with force, air is max Heads 180, tryna jock my straps Cats tryna bite the shoe game with black Flip ‘em inside out, air force attack, nigga [Hook:] Knew he had a crew, that weren’t no punk In their Spitfire shirts and SB dunks Kicks rule everything around me, K.R.E.A.M Get ya sneakers, got my shell toes on Knew he had a crew, that weren’t no punk In their Spitfire shirts and SB dunks Kicks rule everything around me, K.R.E.A.M Get ya sneakers, got my Air Jays on [Verse 3: Y-O and Thurzday] As a youngin’ in my XJ 900s L.A. Street Gear, in lights I was stuntin’ Now we rock De La Souls (and Milli Vanillis) Day of the Dead (Miami Vice, stunt silly) K.R.E.A.M. is a sickness, and man you can’t cure it That’s why I’m laced up in my new [?] We be the new balance of MCs And Asics the basics, we exceed Amateurs be rockin’ thong sandals, no bread We on some pros, Ked Check the style, it spread like a rumor Dudes is housecats, tryna hop to a Puma Fila, Tims, rockin’ Alifes Sauconys, hmm, you should eff life Deceased, R.I.P., K.R.E.A.M Classic like Chuck Taylors, peace [Hook:] Knew he had a crew, that weren’t no punk In their Spitfire shirts and SB dunks Kicks rule everything around me, K.R.E.A.M Get ya sneakers, got my Chuck Taylors on Knew he had a crew, that weren’t no punk In their Spitfire shirts and SB dunks Kicks rule everything around me, K.R.E.A.M Get ya sneakers, got my Timbos on [Outro:] Ha, fuck you (No, fuck you) Step on my shoes, I will kill you (Inglewood city) Then I will kill you again (L.A., Compton, Watts) Shout out to Dame Taylor (on the beat) makin’ this classic K.R.E.A.M. (West Coast) Shout out to Wu-Tang, East Coast (Fried chicken and watermelon) For that original C.R.E.A.M. (Dirty south) U-N-I (And up north) And we out bitch! And this one is of course, for all the sneakerheads All across the world From Oregon, all the way to Africa Puttin’ swooshes on yo’ feet Haha, yeah, bitch Knew he had a crew, that weren’t no punk In their Spitfire shirts and SB dunks Knew he had a crew, that weren’t no punk In their Spitfire shirts and SB dunks