[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
