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My Nikes are special They aren’t like any other pair of shoes I’ve ever owned They come from a place far far away It was either the beginning of August, or the end of May
I traded in my Nike’s for the open mics  Those early Saturday morning 6 o'clocks for them 7s ate my priorities I had to trade them in for 
Walking on the street or tryna keep a beat, All I really need are some shoes on my feet. Preferably Nike, but I ain't picky. Some fresh white converses With red laces. Or maybe some Air Force Ones to keep me fly
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