[Lyric] Shoes (Frak & Nicky C)

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