I got no smart shoes

I got no smart shoes, but got food,

You want some food?

I got dark or white, it's up to you,

It's food for the soul, and my souls well abused,

My shoes don't shine but yours don't too.

Coz I got no roof over ma head and ma cars ma bed,

I park down alleys, n pull ma coat over ma head.

My friends pretend, but don't wanna let me rest ma legs,

I beg n beg but get ripped to shreds.

Coz a friend in need is a friend who thieves,

I've woke before to find friends on their knees.

Sifting through ma tings, taking what they need,

My pills n ching your supposed to leave.

I walk on pins, and blood seeps through my skin,

I'd tell you the truth but never know where to begin.

I've hid before behind wheelie bins,

Watching murder scenes as Police teams, scan n beam.

My shoes may not shine, but 100% they're mine,

Never going down for a heist on Clarkes, damn stupid crime.

Treds cleaner than my bed n well past their prime,

You better lick my feet coz your face is well worth the time.

Coz a friend in need must be a friend with greed,

Their needs so deep, they forget you in a heart beat.

A place to stay isn't a doggy treat,

You'd rather call the law than let me rest my feet.

So do you want these shoes, I say exist?

A pair of feet golden from the sun, but moon blessed.

Ten rough blistered toes, that the devils kissed,

Bore babies to the Gods, but ill conceived half pissed.

I maybe bat fuck crazy, but mans no joke no toke,

Small room filled with fumes and a sign not to smoke.

A stand up man, and all round good bloke,

But pull a stunt like that and you'll die in my choke.

Coz I done time, thrown lines and stood in line for brine,

What yours is mine, and what's mine is mine.

Got an eye for wheels n never paid speeding fine,

Cash on tap whoever said it don't pay well crime?

So go walk a mile, in my soiled wet shoes,

Go slow, two by two, like rats led by a flute.

Tred the worn path with a laugh, give that man a toot,

N don't be the sow, fat cow, slow meat farmers shoot.

Coz a friend in need is a friend who bleeds,

Share blood in a stall, pass works beneath.

Core blimey son, he said goodbye with a tweet,

5 years then passed before he was found dead in the street.

Coz I aint got no smart shoes, but have you?

Or are your treds worn dead, a sick man with no clue.

A suited fat lawyer, pimping a room with no view,

No win no fee, but got time to sue.

Coz I count the real friends on my pinks, from head to toe,

A real friend will lend and don't put on a show.

That's why I don't have real friends, they're a bar set too low,

And I walk these shit shoes alone on dis path I know.

 

© 2020 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid