This is a song about "Feel good inc clint eastwood"

Aye, hold your head homie, look

Or maybe i'm just too good

The .45 for you niggas with nine lives

Smoking chronic to feel them good vibes,

But i guess its all good

My nigga, no hook

Nigga fuck the black and whites

Smoking chronic to feel them good vibes,

Stained like inc not pencil, hit me hard in the temple, different it was sentimental,

Hustlin in our hoods , slanging nothing but the goods / street to street you will

But the good die young and bad slow so i hope u die fuckin slow cause uve made us feel so fuckin low

Tell me i ain't god's son, nigga mom a virginwe got evicted had to leave the burbs, back in the ghetto

I am just an artist

Obama and bill clint,