This is a song about "Tom bomb cal bal dyl bill and eat and beat"

I am just an artist

Obama and bill clint,

I just black out and explode like a bomb

As: i’m layin’ in the cut waitin’ for your mom

So pass the heinekin and slide a bill

Get my fill on with this grandmother named jill

Chasing for the wind but you never win the track meet

And takin' control and murderin' every beat,

A hundred degrees, i dove in and started to eat

Cause when in danger those niggas changepuff weed

So nigga listen you can probably learn a lesson perhaps

I'll pick up your bill then shoot you dead and the tangueros will tip their hats

We will cook you up and eat,

If he does my soul to keep

So instead i use the beat and rhyme, and never eat my time

Swear to god man it ain’t a rhyme, i grind for a piece of mine