conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Write me a song called Cross-Trainers with the following description: Like (of Pac Div) produced the first half of “Sing About Me, I’m Dying of Thirst” off of Kendrick Lamar’s good kid, m.A.A.d city, and this is, presumably, another little something that came of their studio session.
  The collaboration also features Johnson Barnes, making it a truly west coast affair. Apparently Kendrick has no care for the beef between Blu and labelmate Schoolboy Q.
  The song hit the internet on Tuesday, November 6, 2012, prior to the release of Pac Div’s GMB, of  which it is a part of. Make sure the lyrics are different from the original song.
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: [Hook]
  I got my cross-trainers on, motherfucker, I run shit
  All I do is rap, make dough for the dumb shit
  The return of that 808 trunk hit
  Cash in my palm, I'mma pass the baton, GO!
  Cross trainers on my motherfuckin' feet (go!)
  Cross trainers on my motherfuckin' feet (go!)
  Cross trainers on my motherfuckin' feet
  Cash in my palm, I'mma pass the baton
  [Verse 1: Like]
  You be on that fuck shit, I'm tryin' to make bucks quick
  Don't talk to me if money ain't the subject
  93's laced up, we about to run shit
  Mibbs right beside me, BeYoung got the blunt lit
  Shawn on the cut, Swiff D on the drum kits
  Standin' on your table with a bottle and a drunk bitch
  Fallin' all over spillin' drinks, tryin' to tongue kiss
  Money over hoes, so you know I ain't the one, Miss
  Take her home, make her moan, and when I get done: (Switch!)
  Pass her off like a basketball
  Stay with dimes, I'm like Nash to y'all
  My living room look like a casting call
  Don't be bringing hoes with Noassatall
  A sweet talkin' nigga, ask your mom
  My nigga, that's your squad?
  We treat line-ups like that's Lebron
  Push backwards like the bush whackers
  We ain't just kush rappers - we max it out like FootAction [Hook]
  I got my cross-trainers on, motherfucker, I run shit
  All I do is rap, make dough for the dumb shit
  The return of that 808 trunk hit
  Cash in my palm, I'mma pass the baton, GO!
  Cross trainers on my motherfuckin' feet (go!)
  Cross trainers on my motherfuckin' feet (go!)
  Cross trainers on my motherfuckin' feet
  Cash in my palm, I'mma pass the baton
  [Verse 2: BeYoung]
  Nigga hand over fist, bring some cash in this bitch
  Y'all niggas picture near puttin' swag in your spliffs
  My niggas cop the 7 just to laugh at the 6
  Like "nigga, do you know how much ass I'mma get?"
  Wrote a plan out, let's dip, we can market and sing
  Put that cash in a stash, save that part for the rent
  Only way niggas swingin' is to target the fence
  That's why everything we're singing hit the target like Prince, man
  I'm talkin' vanity and cannabis
  Stickin' to the strategy, how simple can it be?
  Niggas comin' home we gon' put them on the salary
  Niggas think they cold 'til we push our shit to Calgary
  [Verse 3: Blu]
  Yea, you're who-blah and your shoe rot
  You're too shy to be Rah Rah, your due ska
  Your new job from Calgary to the new spot
  Threw that 2Pac on, but couldn't ride like we used 'ta
  Used up, you're new guy's shoe size
  Drew ties, never move pies, move lines
  She do lines, why we shoot rhymes, shoo fly
  Don't bother the father, just let me do mine [Hook]
  I got my cross-trainers on, motherfucker, I run shit
  All I do is rap, make dough for the dumb shit
  The return of that 808 trunk hit
  Cash in my palm, I'mma pass the baton, GO!
  Cross trainers on my motherfuckin' feet (go!)
  Cross trainers on my motherfuckin' feet (go!)
  Cross trainers on my motherfuckin' feet
  Cash in my palm, I'mma pass the baton
  [Verse 4: Mibbs]
  It's notorious, peep it
  Y'all niggas is Victoria's Secret
  Soft as Mom's lingerie
  It's a man's world boy, put the pom-poms away
  It's only right we got our palms on LA
  'Cause if Pac was alive, you'd get bombed on today
  Bombs bombs away, like 'Bron-'Bron and Wade
  We been had next, now it's our time to play, nigga
  [Verse 5: Kendrick Lamar]
  Your false prophets will never jump in my pockets
  You're poppin' your gums and I'm poppin' your optics
  Optimus Prime when I'm done
  And the topic of music is me
  And the logic is usually
  You should stop in and grab a degree
  In the science of how to emcee
  And I'm watchin' the critics critique
  When I'm climbing the valleys and peaks
  And aligning myself
  While I'm riding Orion's belt
  In the street and defiling this beat
  As a dead bitch that lay at my feet
  This is King shit... [Hook]
  I got my cross-trainers on, motherfucker, I run shit
  All I do is rap, make dough for the dumb shit
  The return of that 808 trunk hit
  Cash in my palm, I'mma pass the baton, GO!
  Cross trainers on my motherfuckin' feet (go!)
  Cross trainers on my motherfuckin' feet (go!)
  Cross trainers on my motherfuckin' feet
  Cash in my palm, I'mma pass the baton