This is a song about "Good moods"

I'm still bustin jewels, everything good

And i don't cook much but i'm tough with that phone book

Cause the moods that get attracted and then try to hang with us

That’s like a complacent atheist is asking for jesus

Adapt to being black, strapped and gang tats, look

Trunk fulla speakers, pocket fulla good

Go where you ain't been

Give my cock a good suction

From hollywood to the hood

Or maybe i'm just too good

That everythings fine, ok and good

Whole lotta money, big tip i would

Ensue the yard, white lawmen rest good,

We was loonie i suppose, you could

That wasn't bullets, that was copies of bastard, you bitch

No good without a blade and no good outside a ditch